My Ghost Named Merlin
by Sacred3
Summary: Hi my name is Merlin. I'm a spirit but some say ghost and I've been haunting this house for quite a while and had a pretty free 'life', until I met Morgana Pendragon. Only then did 'life' get really interesting. Modern AU
1. Hello

**My Ghost Named Merlin **

**Chapter 1: Hello**

Morgana tucked a stray lock of her raven hair behind her ear with one hand as she carried a box of cutlery and other brick-a-brack toward an old, wooden house. The house was in some obscure rural location that she didn't care to remember.

She walked up the creaky, wooden porch and entered the building (its large oak doors were already open). This lead to a long ominous looking hall way of more creaky, wooden floorboards and several iron wrought chandeliers with ancient half melted candles smothered by cobwebs. It was cooler in here than outside. So much so that goosebumps formed on her forearms and legs which were exposed due to her minimal summer clothing. Morgana continued walking down the hall way and found what Morgana would describe as a great hall.

Though in reality it could have been just a really large living room that was really long, had antique furnishings hidden under swathes dusty cloths and had a massive stain glass window of various coat of arms and crests. Not to mention a massive open fire place. But she would just have to get use to it because she would be staying here for the rest of her summer holidays until university started.

Morgana placed the box amongst other boxes and stood back to see just how much work that she and her half brother Arthur had to do before Uther arrived. Uther being her father, and the person who decided to buy this stupid house in the middle of nowhere on a pure whim.

And speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, after a second or two Arthur entered the room with a box filled with more random objects and placed it next to Morgana's box. He wiped his brow since he was perspiring quite heavily, not only due to his exertions but also because of the unnaturally warm summer day.

"That's the last box thank heavens. This is servant's work!" he exclaimed as he stretched his shoulder muscles.

"Yeah, whatever," she replied nonchalantly, still pissed off that she was here in the first place.

Arthur raised his eyebrows at her in an annoyed manner. Even though they practically lived with each other all their lives, half blood related or not, siblings are siblings and they generally don't get along not matter what age they. "It's not like your the only who doesn't want to be in this god forsaken place."

"Hmmm," she rolled her eyes at Arthur's whining and reached into the back pocket of her short shorts to retrieve her mobile to check the time. It was still quite early in the day.

"Are you even listening to me?" asked Arthur.

Morgana ignored him and continued browsing through her phone.

It was Arthur's turn to roll his eyes and be pissed off. "Well, if you want to do anything useful we can begin cleaning the rooms since we're gonna be stuck here for the next month or so. Luckily it only really dusty so no need for painting thank the lord. Also the furniture was already moved into the place a week ago. Just pick a room and begin." With that Arthur left the 'grand hall' and began with his own devices.

Morgana locked her mobile placed it in her front pocket and sat on the nearest chair (or what she thought might be a chair since the shape was blurred under the white cloth) and sighed.

For the rest of the day Morgana and Arthur purged the house of dust, spiders, leaves and anything that was deemed unfit to be in the building. The gloves that she put on six hours ago that were once pristine white were now a filthy, dark grey her face was beaded with sweat. She removed the gloves and chucked them into one of the many large, plastic, black bags full of rubbish in the now dust and cobweb free hallway.

Morgana decided to take the rubbish bags out and place them around the bin (since it was already full) in the front yard. Night had already fallen and with this change the temperature dramatically dropped; dropped enough that Morgana could see her breath frosting up. She had to be quick to take the rubbish out or she would freeze. She managed to accomplish the task in five minutes but in that time she was also able the admire or in her opinion just observe the surroundings of the plot of land the house stood on.

Indeed, she was correct the wooden yet once grandeur house really was in the middle of nowhere. She couldn't see any light around her besides those coming from the house (that were from candles since the electricity hadn't been connected yet and was being done tomorrow) and that of the full moon and stars. She couldn't even see the road down which Arthur drove down to go to town (which was some forty-five minutes away) and get dinner for the two of them. Their driveway was immensely long and the a good portion of the plot of land was surrounded by tall, dense tree like various conifers and oaks. The garden itself was in a wild state for it had been unattended for years and the plants had grown out of their set plots and probably onto the now non-existent pathways.

When Morgana finished observing the front of the house she saw two pinpricks of light coming down the winding drive way. It was Arthur coming back in his little old Ford. He parked in front of the house and came out carrying several bags of shopping and Chinese take-out. Morgana silently helped him carry a few bags back into the house and settled them onto a large, mahogany table in the grand hall.

Arthur had already laid out the things he carried on the table and was trying to start a fire with the wood that was neatly stacked next to the fireplace. At the moment he was failing. Morgana who already began eating her dinner sniggered at Arthur's miserable attempts. In the end he gave up and stalked to the table and began his own.

"What are you looking at?" accused Arthur when he realised she was staring at him.

"Nothing," Morgana answered with a small grin.

"I highly doubt that it's nothing." He shovelled more fried rice into his mouth.

"Oh, I just find it amusing that you can't even start a wood fire," she said truthfully.

Arthur swallowed whatever food was in his mouth, "Humph if you think your so good at starting fires I suggest you try."

"Fine I will," Morgana curtly answered and got up from her chair. She walked to the other end of the table and picked up some old newspaper and began scrunching them up into paper balls. Morgana removed some of the larger logs from the fire place and replaced it with the newspaper balls. She left some of the smaller logs there too. Morgana took the lighter and lit the newspaper which instantly became a lit. This caused the some of the smaller logs to smoulder a bit. She reached for the poker that hung from a hook by the side of the fireplace. The poker had one pointy and one hooked end. This hooked end was shaped like an eagles head. She poked the logs around to aerate them until they too began burning. The room was bathed in a warm light and heat diffused in to the room.

Morgana straightened up and turned around with a smug smile, "See easy-peasy."

But was only met with Arthur who settled on a nearby sofa chair with a blanket on snoring softly. Her expression softened upon seeing it. Morgana grabbed a blanket from the piles of stuff that littered the room and settled onto spare couch to got to sleep.

**M**

_Swish. Swish. Swish._

Morgana's eyes fluttered open. It was still dark and the fire had died down, only a few embers persisted with their small reddish glow. Enough light for her to see that Arthur was still asleep and his mouth wide open. It was so tempting to throw something in it.

_Scrape. Scrape. Scrape._

She was perplexed with the sounds she was hearing. Her eyes had already adjusted to the light but still it was not very clear. However, she listened for another moment and heard nothing. Morgana decided to go back to sleep.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Her eyes snapped open this time. Surely she heard something.

_Swish. Swish. Swish._

Ok, there was definitely something making a noise and it appeared to be coming from the upper levels of the house. Morgana moved the blanket aside, exposing her body to the cool night air and got up and picked up a torch.

She used the torchlight to guide her up the stairs she cleaned earlier in the day and toward to upper floor. The upper storey of the building contained two bathrooms, a central living area and four bedrooms. They too were already furnished and were cleaned by herself and Arthur. She had already called dibs to the room on the north side facing the lake fifty meters behind the house.

_Scrape. Scrape. Scrape._

The noise was coming from higher up still. From the attic she guessed. Morgana walked to the far end of the living area and to another set of stairs that lead into the attic. She reached the attic door and tried to open it. It was difficult to open but after fiddling with the knob a bit she was able to pry it open. Morgana shone the torch into the room and it revealed more old furniture like chairs and a mirror which were opposite to a shelf full or books near some wooden trunks.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

The sound was coming from behind the trunks. Morgana moved toward them and looked behind and saw some mice sitting in a metal bucket chewing on something, and there feet scraping in the tin, which amplified it. But as soon as she got closer they scurried off. Morgana bent over and picked up what they were gnawing on.

She put the the torch on the bookshelf and held up what looked like a red, silken scarf in front of the light. It was only fifty by fifty centimetres big, felt very silky and unusually clean. She angled it differently and saw a little eagle embroidered in one of the corners and a blue letter M in fancy script. Morgana brushed her thumb over the M, feeling every soft thread and brought it up to her face for reasons she still didn't know and savoured the cool texture.

"Hello," said a soft baritone voice, "Umm I suggest you stop rubbing your face on my neckerchief cause that feels a little too good."

Morgana sharply turned around and saw a tall, lanky man with dark messy hair and dressed in weird clothes. But she was'nt shocked by this fact. It wasn't the fact that he was somewhat good looking. Nor that his mouth was curved into a charming smile or that fact his brilliant eyes were the same shade of blue as the letter M on the now apparent neckerchief. But it was the fact that he was standing in front of the mirror and no reflection of him was yet to be seen.

So Morgana did what was most natural of the situation and screamed.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_I know, I know I should be updating my other story **Remembering **(if you are one of my readers) but this plot bunny kept flittering through my head so I had to type it up to get rid of it so I can continue typing up new updates. This story will probably be shorter than Remembering and more funny...hopefully. Also I think the characters are going to be pretty out of character but who knows and I can't decide whether to make this a romance or not. Anyway, again probably be sporadic updates so keep this on alert if you like and reviews are welcomed._


	2. A Vampire?

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 2: A Vampire?**

"AHHHHHHHHH!"screamed Morgana at the top of her lungs as she suddenly froze on the spot, unable to look away from the tall, lanky man standing in front of the mirror.

She let go of the neckerchief and it gently fluttered to the floor. After a few seconds (but it felt like ages to Morgana) Arthur crashed through the attic door holding a torch and the other hand gripping the eagle head poker, ready to swing it at whatever scared the living daylights of his half sister and caused her to scream like a banshee which woke him up from a pleasant dream.

"Get away from her!" Arthur cried out.

But he saw nothing. No mice, no spider, no murderer and definitely not the blue eyed man Morgana saw. All he saw was Morgana with her emerald green eyes wide open, sweat beaded all over her forehead and her face so white like she saw a ghost.

Just as Arthur entered the room with his blond hair all wild and messy from sleep with the poker Morgana snapped from her self induced paralysis and scrambled toward Arthur to hide behind his back. She clutched onto this shirt so tightly Arthur was sure that her nails would be leaving ten marks on his back (which he regretted thinking that particular thought an instant later for it sounded highly inappropriate).

"Ow. Morgana let go," complained Arthur, trying to prevent those nail marks arising on his back.

Morgana didn't let go. Instead she held on to him tighter. Arthur just stood there and didn't move. He didn't ask the stranger why he was in the attic or how he got in here. Or whether if he was a vampire since he didn't have a reflection. After a moment Morgana stood up to peep over Arthur's shoulder to see if the man was still there since Arthur still didn't do anything.

She saw no one. No strangely dressed man with the brilliant blue eyes. She didn't hear a melodic baritone voice. Nothing. Zilch.

Only then did she relent her grip on Arthur's shirt, yet she still hid behind him. Arthur's shoulders slumped and he turned around to face his younger sister who looked white as death but a little more composed.

"Ok, what is it? Did you see a spider? A mouse? Or was this some horrible prank to get me back for all the slaving around we did today?" he asked in a teasing manner.

Morgana remained silent and then slowly replied, "I saw a man standing by the mirror. He was some tall, skinny guy with black messy hair and bright blue eyes."

Arthur raised an eyebrow because he saw nobody when he entered the room. Also the idea that a random stranger would wandering in a house much less an attic in the middle of nowhere sounded absurd.

Morgana frowned at him, she then quickly continued wildly, "But that wasn't it. He didn't have a reflection. He was standing right in front of the mirror and there was no bloody reflection!"

"Like a vampire?" asked Arthur seriously.

"Yeah exactly like a vampire," she agreed fervently and then added, "Just not the Twilight vampires."

Arthur stared at her and threw his back in fit of laughter. It went on for a while. Morgana stood there dumbstruck and feeling betrayed.

When Arthur was finally able to calm down, except for the few chortles he couldn't reign in he managed to say, "Wow Morgana! This is probably the best or worst prank you ever pulled so far."

Morgana looked at him with an aghast expression, "It's not a prank," she insisted.

"Really? Did you really think I would believe some wildly spun tale of a man wandering in our attic and has no reflection? I'm pretty sure you just saw a mouse and screamed. Though I must say that was some pretty good acting on your count."

"I'm not lying Arthur!" she persisted, "There was a man here!"

"A vampire," Arthur teased with a grin.

"Well no," Morgana paused, "But a humanoid."

He laughed again. "Yes a vampire," he proceeded with a chuckle, "A fast vampire like Edward Cullen."

"No. This is not funny Arthur. I really did see someone here," she said again.

By this stage Arthur was still internally laughing at his sister's attempt to convince him that this house was haunted or something. Then he suggested, "You stand there and I'll look around the room to see if anyone is hiding behind the the furniture. There is only one way in and out of the attic and the obviously couldn't have gone through that. So if the so called blue eyed man is here he'll be hiding."

Arthur was about to step away from Morgana but then her hand shot out and dislodged the eagle head poker from his hand and held it protectively in front of her. Arthur rolled his eyes at the action but was impressed at the effort Morgana was putting into scare him.

Arthur looked around the some of the chairs, behind some old paintings, the book shelf in which he shuffled some of the literature around. He checked behind the trunks and opened them. They contained more books, magazines, records and what appeared an old army uniform complete with medals. All the while Morgana stood in the centre of the dimly lit room with the poker poised to hit something.

"There's no one here Morgana," said Arthur when he looked behind the curtains covering the circular window at the far end of the attic.

"You haven't checked behind the mirror," stammered Morgana.

Arthur sighed and headed to the mirror and examined around the old ornate object. The mirror was very elegant, its frame was of twining flowers and vines that were painted old, albeit a bit dusty. Morgana watched in anticipation as Arthur began to move behind the mirror to check behind. He took a step behind it and half his body disappeared behind it. Then a hand grabbed him and yanked him behind the mirror.

"ARRRGHH!" he screamed and suddenly it became silent.

_Thump. _It sounded like a body hitting the floor and then Arthur's torch rolled out.

"AHHHHHH!" screamed Morgana as she ran toward the mirror and behind. Swinging the poker wildly blindly in the dark.

She hit nothing in her frantic swinging. Then an abrupt flash of light shone into eyes, blinding her for a second. When her eyes adjusted she was met with Arthur trying to hold onto the laughter that was trying to escape his lips. In his hand was the torch and his other hand clutching the front of his shirt. He glanced up at Morgana whose mouth was wide open. The dam burst and he laughed like a maniac with tears forming in the corners of his eyes whilst he rolled around on the floor.

She was glad that Arthur was very much alive but in an instant her face went from stunned to a raging fury.

"Arrghh! You stupid, immature imbecile!" she yelled and began kicking him. Now he was rolling on the floor in pain. "I thought you were dead!"

Arthur managed to evade her kicks this time and got up. Morgana then started to thump him with her fists, dropping the poker on the floor. He grabbed her shoulders and looked straight at her.

"Morgana." She looked up and into Arthur's icy blue eyes. "Chill. I donno whether your joking around or not any more. But as you can see nobody is here. I think it has been a long night." At that moment light began seeping through the curtain.

"And I think we should go to town to have some breakfast since we still have no electricity here," he finished.

Morgana looked at her older half brother and nodded. Together the exited the attic leaving the eagle head poker and the red neckerchief there.

**M**

For the next couple of days the siblings continued cleaning the house and organising their various belongings into the proper rooms. Throughout that whole time Morgana clung onto Arthur fearing that she would see the blue eyed man again. But after a week she saw nothing and began to forget the _encounter_.

Morgana exited the bathroom in search for her hairbrush which seemed to go missing everyday and entered her bedroom (the one she called dibs on when she first arrived in here). And there was the hairbrush in front of her dressing mirror again. She began brushing her hair so she would at least look marginally presentable when Uther arrives in an hour to see the hard work Arthur and her did over the past week or two. Though the garden was still in a disarray.

She went downstairs and saw Arthur putting on his sunglasses and holding his car keys.

"Where are you going?" she inquired, "Father is going to be here soon."

"Yeah, his meant to but his car broke down in town so I'm going have to pick him up. I'll be back in an hour and a half," stated Arthur while he slipped his wallet in his back pocket. "Maybe you can light the the fireplace o master fire starter," teased Arthur, "You know how Father likes the grand look. By the way nice flowers. I see they match your top," he complimented as he exited the house.

Morgana grinned at the master fire started quip but then became confused about the flowers. Morgana looked around any saw on the mahogany table in the grand hall a crystal vase filled with purple flowers that did match her lavender blouse. But she placed the vase with daisies from the overgrown garden last night instead.

The vampire! But she quickly pushed that thought aside for it was probably her being stupid. Morgana then began to get ready to light the fire until she realised the poker was left in the attic.

Morgana went up to the attic, the only place that has yet to be cleaned and retrieve the poker. She bent down and picked the poker up. She also saw the red silk neckerchief too lying there delicately on the floor. She picked that too and examined it further and saw opposite of the eagle and M was two dragons, a gold and white one.

"Knew you were going to come back and get the poker. I've been waiting all week. You didn't seem to respond to moving hairbrushes or changing flowers," said a baritone voice.

Morgana's eyes snapped upward from the neckerchief. Her delusional thoughts from the past week weren't delusional. There was a tall, lanky man with the brilliant blue eyes was standing by the mirror in a oversized blue shirt, brown pants, boots. Yet what stood out most was the neckerchief tied around his neck. It was identical to the one she was currently holding.

"Stay away from me vampire," she said in her most authoritative voice while she held the poker toward him but it was quivering for her hands were shaking.

The man looked offended and wrinkled his elegant nose. "Me a vampire? I have never been so insulted in my _life_. Who would want to be a blood sucking monster?"

Morgana was baffled at the statement. She peered behind him and still there was no reflection.

"You don't have a reflection," she replied, feeling slightly stupid because for all she knew this was a figment of her imagination.

"Well I'm a spirit, so of course I don't have a reflection," he scoffed.

She frowned and answered, "So a ghost?"

The spirit crossed his arms across his chest. He appeared to very lithe yet well muscled in a skinny way. "I suppose that what you people call spirits these days, but yes a ghost. Nice to meet you by the way," he greeted and held his hand out for her to shake.

Morgana wasn't sure whether to take it or not because ghosts can de-materialise right? Either way Morgana reached out with her hand to grab his. She was sort of half expecting a solid hand to grab it but her delicate hand went right through his instead.

He laughed in a surprisingly jolly way in response and yelled out, "Gotcha!"

Morgana looked really pissed and through the poker at him but since he was a ghost it went right through him and hit the mirror. But it didn't shatter.

"Sorry, sorry. Old habits die hard. But really nice to meet you. Merlin at your service My Lady," he bowed, his jolly facade instantly became more respectful.

Morgana felt a little flattered at being called a lady and replied in turn with a curtsey, "Morgana Pendragon at yours."

"Well that's all the formalities done and Lady Morgana I think life is suddenly going to become a lot more interesting from now on," he smiled.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_Wow! I didn't expect so much positive feedback to this little side project; a few alerts, favourites and reviews. It inflated my head so much I decided to update. This is now a friendship story as of now (I think) as I am trying to improve my humour. Thoughts on my attempts of humour (or lack thereof) is highly appreciated._


	3. I Am Not Your Servant nor Jinni

**Warning: Some swearing hence it being rated T.**

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 3: I Am Not Your Servant nor Jinni**

Morgana frowned, forming crinkles on her ivory white forehead. "What do you mean by interesting?" she asked.

Immediately she began pacing up and down the attic. Doing several laps around the room and her face expressing extreme concentration whilst biting her bottom lip. The red neckerchief was encircled by her hand in a death like grip, all the while she forgot about the poker.

Merlin looked at her with a curious expression, wondering what she was concentrating so hard on. He watched her pace for several minutes, enjoying the clacking sounds her shoes made on the wooden floor; it was very rhythmical.

Suddenly Morgana froze in the centre of the room, her body all taut and tense. She turned around to face in him in the most slowest manner possible and looked right into his cobalt blue eyes. Merlin was confused by her expression. She looked stunned, her emerald green eyes were wide open and and pupils dilated, yet her mouth gave off a sort of insane grin. He wasn't s sure what to expect from this Morgana Pendragon person.

"I'm going crazy!" she cried out, "I'm really going crazy!" she repeated again.

Morgana began doing some kind of dance, spinning around thing while repeating the chant_ I'm going crazy_. This left poor Merlin totally baffled by the situation and standing there totally ignored, not exactly what he wanted.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to wake Morgana from her _tribal dance _but alas she still ignored him. Only when he yelled out, "Lady Morgana Pendragon!"

Morgana froze in mid-step and looked at him with wild looking eyes except for the tears in the corner due to her delirious dancing and chanting.

She laughed boldly, "I see I'm definitely going crazy. A ghost named Merlin is trying to call to me and I'm responding." She laughed again, "And now I'm probably talking to no one and this is all a figment of my imagination. Yes I am fucking crazy!" Morgana bent down gripping her knees while she laughed at the insanity of it all. Her body convulsed as fits a laughter trailed from her stomach to mouth.

Merlin was still baffled, never had he encountered such a strange person in his life and _life. _He decided it was time to tackle the bizarre situation before him.

Morgana who finally settled down had straightened up, trying to compose herself so she would look presentable when Uther and Arthur arrived. She didn't know how much time has past since entering the attic. Morgana wiped a few tears from her eyes with the neckerchief and looked up to see if her now self diagnosed insanity told her if this Merlin was still standing there.

And he definitely was, albeit his face was was only a few mere inches away from hers. His eyes were piercing right into Morgana like he was scrutinizing her soul or some crazy action of the sort. Again Morgana stood still and frozen (an action she seemed to be repeating quite often every time she entered the attic), beads of sweat began forming on her forehead and the palms of her hands were getting cold and clammy. Morgana's breath hitched up a bit as her pulse sped up. This was all part of her imagination right? All she needed to do was imagine him away.

But before she even considered that, Merlin smiled and whisked back to his original spot by the mirror. By whisking back to the mirror it actually meant that he de-materialised into a translucent mist that had a humanoid form, like a photo one captures of a person running and they, a general half formed blur.

"Thank you," he said, his full lips shaping every syllable as he enunciated every sound.

Morgana blinked several times, still not able to process her self diagnosed insanity.

Merlin ignored her silence and continued speaking, "I don't liked to be a thought of as a 'figment of imagination' you know. It hurts my feelings."

"What for?" asked Morgana, breaking through her silence.

"What do you mean by 'what for'?"

"By the thank you," she replied.

"For finally stopping your ludicrous, though enjoyable dance and acknowledging that I exist," Merlin answered curtly.

Morgana wriggled her nose, "I haven't acknowledged that you exist."

"So yes, you are right now talking to yourself in an attic and randomly stop moving for periods of time. Yes, if you are doing that with no apparent stimulus, you are definitely going crazy," Merlin replied sarcastically with a twinkle in his eye. "But I beg to differ, by randomly thinking you are seeing a ghost, though I prefer the term spirit and talking when being spoken to by said spirit, even to the point you know their name, I would assume that to be a form of acknowledgement. Furthermore it means you are not crazy," he added.

Morgana thought for a moment. Her imaginary ghost friend did make a logical and valid point just then. She wasn't so sure how to respond to that and thought it better to remain silent and imagine her ghost Merlin away. Morgana stood there and concentrated hard on the thought.

Merlin felt insulted again and made a face at her (thought she didn't see it since her eyes were squinted shut in concentration).

"Hello, Miss Pendragon," he greeted while waving his hand in front of her face. Merlin knew that she could tell that he was still there for she flinched a bit, but still no major progress had occurred.

Ultimately Merlin won because she slowly opened her eyes and she saw him in his full opaque glory. Not like those half see through ghosts in the movies. From all that squinting tears had formed in her eyes and again she used the red silk neckerchief (which apparently belongs to Merlin and with that being said proved that he exists or existed) and wiped her tears away.

"Thank you," he said dryly, "But I would prefer it that you don't use my neckerchief as a handkerchief to wipe your tears away. Though I would generally approve of such an action, I rather not have my soul and life covered in tears. It takes a while to recover," he gestured at his hair.

Morgana looked him more closely, he fidgeted under her gaze obviously not comfortable with the analysis of himself. She saw that his once messy, raven hair had suddenly became more matted and glossy, like he just came out of a shower. Morgana looked at the neckerchief and spotted a few moist patches that were tears and looked back at him. He crossed his arms around his chest and looked right back at her.

Morgana then got an idea from her observations and decided to test out her theory. She held out the neckerchief with both her hands in front of her. It dangled straight and waif like. She took a quick glimpse at Merlin who looked bewildered by her actions once again. Morgana then straightened her shoulders and this time eyed Merlin in what one would describe as menacing. Merlin's mouth opened in the shape of a little O as he just realised what she was about to do.

However, before he could do anything (not that there was much he could do) Morgana pulled the neckerchief from both sides in the opposite directions, making the neckerchief more taut than it already is, she didn't stretch it but enough to see a firm reaction from Merlin.

And react he did. Merlin's arms suddenly spread out and he stood firmly in his spot. This made him look like a scarecrow to which Morgana laughed with amusement.

"Oi! I would definitely prefer you not to do that," Merlin retorted with the most unamused face Morgana had ever seen in her life. It was even better than Uther's face when a twelve year old Arthur pushed her down a rocky hill in their billy-kart when he specifically told them not to and her ending up having her leg in a cast for a month.

"Hey stop it! Stop it!" commanded Merlin as he started doing star jumps since Morgana started pulling the neckerchief in different directions.

"And what are you going to do about it?" laughed Morgana, maybe finally accepting that her attic was haunted by a ghost named Merlin.

"I can do many things," he replied in a grave tone which may have been scary if he wasn't hopping on one foot.

"Oh really?" answered Morgana haughtily.

"Yeah really?"

"Like what?" she queried.

"Like set stuff* on fire."

"Really?" her eyes sparkled at the answer.

"Of course, being a spirit grants one many powers," he proudly replied.

"Good, you can start up the fire for me then." Morgana walked towards him to pick up the poker.

Merlin was shocked by such a demand. He was a spirit not some haughty girl's servant. And he voiced that particular thought to her.

To which Morgana replied, "Servant? Maybe not. You seem way much cooler than that."

Merlin was befuddled by the word cool. He didn't look nor feel cold at all.

Morgana managed to catch onto that, "Cool meaning better."

He automatically found himself liking this word _cool_ but he said, "I may be cool but you aren't making me set your fireplace. Start your own fire Miss Pendragon, I know you can. You can't make me."

Morgana disregarded the comment."You are more like a genie, since you can do the moving around as a wispy mass and the apparent talent for starting fires. And I can make you do it."

"What in the world is a genie?" he demanded.

"A supernatural being who does their master's bidding in the form of wishes. Better known as a jinni** from the story One Thousand and One Nights or Arabian Nights."

That Merlin did know, having read the story quite a while ago, "Well for your information Lady Morgana I am not your servant nor jinni. And that still doesn't explain your apparently infallible idea of making me _granting _your wishes."

Morgana then casually waved the red silk neckerchief in front of him in a teasing manner and slyly said, "This was your soul and life. Am I correct?"

Merlin's face immediately became defeated and Morgana smirked, quite happy with her victory against insanity.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_Wow I updated again so soon. I find this story highly amusing to type up, feels like some kind of crack. Hoping you guys are enjoying it. Also may not update for a bit since I have an exam next week (but times like those my muse tends to attack me)._

_*Stuff: A modern word but the context was first used in the 14th century according to Merriam Webster Dictionary_

_ **Jinni the plural of Jinn (Djin) in Arabic, but later translated to genie by the French for Arabian Nights, but I like to think of Merlin as an archaic kind of guy who knew the original terminology than translations.  
><em>


	4. I am Not a Vampire and He's a Prat

**OMG it's been 4 months since I last updated this story. Officially off hiatus now. Without further ado I present...**

* * *

><p><strong>My Ghost Named Merlin<strong>

**Chapter 4: I am Not a Vampire and He's a Prat**

Morgana headed down stairs and back into the grand hall where the fireplace was. While she was walking down she occasionally turned her head discreetly to see whether if ghosts floated around like the movies or they walked.

Merlin walked. Putting one foot in front of another, a very normal and systematic way of locomotion. Merlin, claimed he was a ghost (spirit he preferred) but he looked very solid and had the ability to pick up objects (which explained her now not so mysterious moving hairbrushes and changing flowers). But aren't spirits meant to be non-solid? He did look quite misty when he did the _whooshing _thing.

Nevertheless Morgana appeared not to be phased. She instead seemed to be taking in the situation very well.

Merlin quickly realised that Miss Pendragon was giving him secretive glances. Not that they were secret since he noticed them. Yet, anyway he was quite amused by the fact. She was such a curious creature. One minute she was screaming that he was a vampire and the next she seemed to be welcoming him with open arms and now bullying him.

"So now Merlin, work your magical fire powers and light this fireplace up for me," commanded Morgana, pointing at the ornate place.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, "And what if I don't want to?" He was curious in how she would react to his defiance.

Morgana smirked and showed him his neckerchief. The silk material was tied around her wrist like a bracelet. "You want to do more star jumps? I donno if ghosts get tired but it takes a while for me to get tired. It's not like I have much to do here."

"I don't get tired and I don't sleep."

"Much as you like to disagree that is a vampire trait in the Twilight world."

"A vampire trait? Twilight world? But they spend half their time asleep," he commented, a little confused at her statement.

"You know Twilight vampires," stated Morgana as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I have no clue what you are talking about. But I must repeat the fact, I am not a vampire Miss Pendragon," huffed Merlin.

Morgana could already see that Merlin was a sensitive guy and more likely to be a sentimental one. Nevertheless, it was quite obvious Merlin did not like the vampire thing and was quite touchy about it.

"Well be glad you haven't. But who cares about that now, do your thing,"she waved both her hands at the fireplace.

Merlin rolled his eyes and then dramatically rubbed his hands and clapped them together once. The sound that came out of it wasn't that of a single clap but something akin to a whip cracking, a very loud one at that. It was so loud that Morgana put her hands to her ears to block the sound. Morgana may have covered her ears but her eyes were still open and she could see his eyes flash a glowing yellow. Haha, another vampire trait he has, and something to tease him about.

Meanwhile Arthur and Uther had just entered the house and made their way to the grand hall only to see Morgana covering her ears and overall looking very odd.

"Morgana dear, what are you doing?" asked Uther, looking concerned for his daughter.

Though covering ones ears make block out the majority of sound, one generally still has the ability to hear through such barriers like hands. Morgana turned around with her hands still covering her ears and elbows raised to see her father, all neat and pristine in his suit even though it began to slightly drizzle outside.

Morgana looked at Uther and Arthur who were standing at there at the room and and entrance and she quickly glanced at the fireplace only to still see Merlin there leaning on the mantle as if he were solid. However, the two men opposite her were clearly oblivious to Merlin's presence in the room as he just watched the three of them in silence but giving Arthur weird looks.

Morgana's mind quickly processed the information and concluded that Merlin just simply wasn't visible for the two of them and that Morgana was the only one in the room who could see him.

She stretched her arms out, "Ohh just streching and enjoying myself in front of the fire."

Uther was easily taken with the excuse though Arthur, the older of the two siblings did not believe her lie for one second. As it should for it was the natural order of things. But before he was able to speak out Morgana had already rushed forward to give Uther a hug. To which he initially responded very stiffly and then softened into it.

"I missed you Daddy," murmurmed Morgana

"I missed you too Princess," replied Uther. Morgana Pendragon had Uther Pendragon wrapped around her finger.

Arthur thought it was kind of sickening to see and it was annoying because Uther did not seem to have the ability to see Morgana's occasional conniving side. He had a feeling that this _other _Morgana was about to come out.

"So what do you think of the house?" she asked with a false innocence in her eyes, not that Uther could see.

"It's wonderful! So bright and beautiful. You even managed to light the fireplace up."

Morgana grinned, "Yeah it was a lot of hard work but I managed it eventually."

Merlin looked at her in disbelief. He was the one that lighted it up and now she was taking all the credit for it. Morgana eyes flickered to the fireplace, seeing the wood blazing fiercely, but in truth she just glanced at Merlin, her ghost, and his reaction, which was currently fisting his immaterial hair in dismay. She smirked at him and Merlin in response squinted at her in an unpleasant manner.

"Well that is a decent job Morgana's done here, but it could've been better," Arthur commented, finally entering the conversation.

What? Merlin glared at this _Arthur _and quickly decided the man was a prat.

"Well I don't see you lighting up fireplaces everyday, since I was the one who did it last time," she retorted.

"Woot! You go show him who's boss!" cheered Merlin.

Morgana flicked her head around to see Merlin cheering for her.

"Is something wrong Morgana?" asked Uther. Arthur too was giving her a quizzical stare.

It was then that Morgana realised for sure that she was the only one who really knew that Merlin was here. "Oh just thought I heard a something."

"Really? And I just thought you were going insane,"muttered Arthur.

"Arthur!" reprimanded Uther to his son who was now slouching on the wall.

"Well at least I'm not diagnosed insane since you already are."

"Morgana!" rebuked Uther.

The two siblings looked like they were going to pounce on each other, like back when they were ten and had fights every few seconds. Back then though Morgana still had a chance of winning. Now Arthur was at least a head taller than her, heavier and stronger. She just had to play dirty if she was going to beat him into submission.

Merlin was grinning with excitement, seeing the tension forming between brother and sister. Seriously the Prat seemed to have a stick shoved up his ass constantly and an ego that would overfill the lake behind the property. So he glided (whooshed really) to Morgana and whispered into her ear, "You really need to show that clotpole brother of yours who's in charge."

Morgana felt the slight chill from his presence then a pleasant sensation of warmth. She smirked at this ghost's conniving, even though he appeared so friendly and carefree.

Arthur stared at his sister oddly. She was acting a lot weirder than usual.

Uther again, was oblivious to his daughter's odd behaviour. "Well since you guys are did a fantastic job with the house and finally have quit it with the childish behaviour I think I'll treat you with dinner in town later tonight."

"Yay!" cheered Arthur and Morgana simultaneously, just proving that they were still a childish duo.

"Ohh I get to dress up. But who's driving?" asked Morgana.

"Arthur of course. He's the one with the only working car at the moment," answered Uther.

Arthur groaned in response, fuel for his car was costing him too much nowadays.

**M**

Later in Morgana's room Morgana was going through her wardrobe to pick out an outfit and Merlin just reading the newspaper. She went into to the bathroom to get changed, not trusting Merlin one bit at all, even if he was dead...she really needed to ask him about that.

"What do you think of this dress Merlin?" she came out in a hot pink, dress that reached mid thigh.

He looked up and looked at the minuscule piece of fabric she called a dress. As much as he admired her figure (was it suddenly getting warm? How can it get warm? He was a spirit) he replied, "No. Too harlot like." He flipped the page and continued reading.

"Oi! I am no harlot!" she countered and chose another dress.

"Well, that thing barely left much to the imagination," he kept reading and then continued, "And if you keep screaming like that Uther and the Prat will diagnose you as insane."

"Yeah, yeah whatever. What's so good about the newspaper anyway? You've been glued to it since you saw it? It's the same old depressing stuff everyday. Elections and the economy," she calls out from the other side of the bathroom door and comes out. "What about this one?" she asks.

"Cause, when your soul is bound to a piece of fabric and you can't leave more than twenty metres away from it, news doesn't come very often. I like to know what's happening in the world these days." Merlin looks up and would've gasped if his self control wasn't near perfect.

Morgana was wearing a beautiful crimson red dress of chiffon that wrapped around her torso like spun silk and flowed down her hips. It stopped just below her knees, dangling gracefully like ribbons on May Day pole before being wrapped.

"Beautiful Miss Pendragon. That's perfect."

Morgana blushed, pink tinting her cheeks. She was very flattered by Merlin's formal but honest compliment. "Umm thank you. So you haven't left this house since...?"

"A very long time," he finished off vaguely.

"Well you might as well come with us to town then. No one can see you and you can whoosh around for a bit."

"I am very grateful for you offer but I suggest no since you appear to be very distracted and insane when I'm around," Merlin says curtly.

"Ohh well you have no choice in the matter. Since I'm the one with your soul." She waves the neckerchief around.

Merlin groans again. What has he gotten himself into?

Morgana smirks in her trademark style. Merlin the ghost was right, life was getting interesting.

* * *

><p><em>Authors' Notes<em>

_I'm meant to be studying but this has been 'whooshing' (lol) around my head for a while. Do you think there is too much chemistry between Merlin and Morgana for a friendship fic (I really want to keep this one non romantic)? Thanks for reading and please review. _


	5. The Camelot Family?

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 5: The Camelot Family?  
><strong>

Morgana was leaning her head against the window of the car, watching the scenery go by. Not that it was much. It was just paddocks filled with green grass, rolling hills, sheep, cows and if your were lucky some straggly looking horses which were way past their prime. But now, it was dark, even with the daylight savings it was basically pitch black, the car lights having to be on high beam if they were to drive and arrive safely in town.

So, essentially the trip to town was boring. Even Merlin, her ghost disappeared. Not like he went off somewhere of course, since he can't leave more than twenty meters from the red neckerchief currently tied around her wrist. Morgana just couldn't see him. Honestly she expected him to be whooshing outside the car window to keep her entertained. But no. The only thing slightly interesting on this forty-five minute drive was Uther and Arthur prattling about cars, specifically Uther's broken down Mercedes that was at the mechanics in the town.

Morgana pulled out her mobile from her bag and found that only fifteen minutes have passed. It was going to be another thirty torturous minutes before they reached town. She closed her eyes and sighed.

Meanwhile, if Morgana were standing outside on the road and saw Arthur's car driving by, she would've saw a figure in blue wearing a red neckerchief sitting cross legged in the roof of it. Merlin, even though he initially refused Morgana's offer (and then was bullied into taking it, more better defined as ordered actually) was having the time of his life.

It wasn't the speed the car was going, making his non existent adrenaline run but the wide expanse of the world out of the house which amazed him. The country side had changed so much since the last time he was out and that was the around 1942. It was the middle of World War Two and the now Pendragon Estate, he cleverly called the house, was a evacuation site for children. Where children were kept safe during the war. It was a great time them. Children were innocent and naïve. But soon the war ended and they left, none them returning to see him. The house was soon abandoned for sometime and then eventually re-bought again later on during the mid 60's. Merlin wasn't sure if his time keeping skills were accurate, it was only a quick glimpse at the _Mother Earth News _magazine since the new owners were enlightening themselves most of the time. Unlike the children, as soon as the new owners saw him they believed him to be some sort of spiritual guidance figure so it was pretty 'groovy' for a while until they overdosed on magic mushrooms. After that nobody wanted to buy the house that had four people die of drug overdose in it and possibly because of the illicit and foul smelling mushrooms that were being grown in the cellar under the house. Until now – until the Pendragon's came along.

Especially Morgana Pendragon.

Now she is an odd lady. Merlin thought those smoking, crazy braided ladies from the seventies were odd. But hey, who was he to complain, she hadn't entirely lost her marbles yet and he was able to get out and see the world. The very flat, non wooded countryside. How different it was from his youth. His real youth. There weren't any more deer by the looks of it but at least there were still cows and sheep around to amuse him.

**M**

Arthur parked the car and proceeded to get out. Morgana celebrated internally they finally arrived in town. Civilization at last! Well, civilization in comparison to where the house was for the town only had 264 people living in it according to the welcome sign when the drove past. She would've opened the door on her own but Uther got to her before she did, treating her like a princess. The apple in his eye.

"Thanks Daddy."

"No problem Morgana," he smiles sweetly at her.

Arthur just rolls his eyes at the interaction, it was truly gag worthy and manipulative on Morgana's count. He mumbles something incomprehensibly to himself that Morgana does not catch.

She turns around to retaliate but then sees Merlin standing on top of the shading his eyes from the non existent sun and observing his surroundings. In a way he kind of looked like a pirate. Morgana giggled at the thought.

"What's so funny Morgana?" asks Arthur.

"What Arthur? I have no idea what you are talking about," Morgana covers her tracks quickly.

Merlin looks down, seeing again that Morgana Pendragon has made a fool of herself once again. He shakes his head with a knowing grin, hops off the car and lands gracefully on the tarmac. Merlin looks at the asphalt and then looks at the ground around him. The asphalt was everywhere! He concluded that people were really wealthy nowadays.

The Pendragons head for the local Italian restaurant, they are followed by Merlin. Morgana really wants to say something to Merlin but even she knows talking out loud in public to apparently nobody is insane thing to do. She tries to think of some ingenious idea to talk to her invisible friend but alas her she comes up with nothing. In the end she sits in her chair and eyes her menu in defeat.

Merlin doesn't really mind the silence, it was comfortable and after so many odd years of being alone he reckons he finally got used to the solitude. But he can see that Morgana was itching to say something but can't due to the ludicrous situation it would cause. Merlin decides to explore the place while the Pendragon Family eats their meal. He can feel Morgana's eyes on him but he doesn't worry and whooshes off, but not too far since his soul is still latched onto Morgana's wrist.

He finds himself in the kitchen, looking in awe at the stainless steel and oversized ovens. Sure the kitchen back at the estate has changed since his time with the arrival of the children and the hippies, no longer being wood fire and now uses gas. But these stoves were a monstrosity and everything was metallic and shiny. Merlin sees an unused frying pan. He knows it's a frying pan but the material it is made of doesn't appear to be iron. He picks it up and reads the word _teflon _on the centre of the disc.

SPLAT!

"Oh my god! The pan is floating!"

One of the chefs drop their minestrone in surprise because they see a floating pan twirling above the kitchen stove. A couple of other workers turn around to see what is going on and witness the floating pan too.

Merlin turns in the direction where the people are looking at and see nothing but some eggs in a basket but no floating pan. Until he realises he is holding a frying pan.

"Oops!"

He quickly places the pan back on the bench much to the horror of the staff to see the pan float nicely back on the bench, and skedaddles out of there.

He finds himself back in the main room where various customers are looking at the kitchen door with confused faces. Merlin quickly ignores them and arrives back at the Pendragon table where they are eating their food and appeared to be joined by another two people who look like father and son couple, both are dark skinned.

"Just come in tomorrow Mr. Pendragon and we can sort out your car then," replies the older dark skinned man good naturedly.

"I will be sure to arrive there precisely at 10 o'clock Mr. Leondegrance," replied Uther, "My son Arthur here will drive me there."

"Call me Tom please Mr. Pendragon. I'm not in the shop yet, but my son Elyan here," the older man claps the younger man on the back, "Would be at the shop already."

"Sure thing Pa," Elyan smiles brightly.

"What a well behaved son you've got Tom. Unlike this one here," Uther playfully ruffles Arthur's blond hair much to his distaste.

"This one well behaved? Then you should meet my daughter Guinevere, she's a true angel, takes right after her mother. She's at home studying, I reckon Morgana here, and her could meet up together sometime, I think they could become great friends," suggested Tom.

"That would be lovely. What do you think Morgana you can come to town tomorrow with Arthur and I?"

Morgana looked up from her lasagne and smiled sweetly at the two older discussing gentlemen. Really she didn't want to wake up early and go to town. She looked at Merlin who finally arrived back from whatever mischief he was up to. She swears the he was the centre of the kaboodle that was in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry Mr. Leondegrance, I would love to meet Guinevere but I'm awfully busy tomorrow doing..." She needs to think of something fast. Morgana looks hard at Arthur for help. Arthur being the older sibling who was quite enjoying seeing Morgana in this fix didn't offer an ounce of help with a smirk on his face.

Her gaze is then directed Merlin who is standing between Tom and Elyan. He thinks for a moment, "Gardening Miss Pendragon?" he proposes.

Morgana takes up on the idea. "I'm busy gardening Mr. Leondegrance. You know that we have recently moved into the house and the garden is awfully overgrown. Tomorrow being a lovely day, I am going to attempt to tame it," she puts on her most charming smile.

Arthur looks at her sceptically.

"No problem Morgana, you can meet Guinevere another time."

"I look forward to it."

Morgana gives Merlin a glance that should be interpreted as 'you are a life saver'.

.**M**

"Do we even have gardening tools in this place?" asks Morgana to Merlin after Arthur and Uther leave for town. She follows the ghost around the back of the house. "I don't even know how to prune a bush."

Merlin gives Morgana a look of disbelief.

"Hey! We had gardeners to maintain our gardens in London," she retorts.

"I didn't say anything Miss Pendragon," replies Merlin nonchalantly.

"Well you were thinking it. And stop calling me Miss Pendragon. It's Morgana please."

He sniggers and then stops, "And here we are Miss Pendragon. The good ol' barn yard, it's a miracle this place is still standing too."

Merlin and Morgana are standing in front of what looks like a barn, a very old creaky barn. Merlin pushes one of the massive front doors open, it's a bit of a struggle but it gives in eventually and swings open. Light spills into the cavern, revealing cobblestoned floors covered in rotting and musty hay, upper floors, stables in need of a good clean and room or two are the far end.

"Wow, it's in pretty good condition for what seems to be a something that's like a hundred years old," expresses Morgana, her eyes quickly shifting between the various things.

Merlin walks in comfortably, his hand glides across the the stable doors, feeling, remembering the golden wood grains and the smell of fresh hay. Not that he can't remember stale hay but he doesn't like to think of mucking it. It was all so familiar. He quickly walks to the far end and opens a cupboard filled it various gardening tools.

He picks a pitchfork and analyses it, "Hmm bit rusty but still usable," he twirls it in his hand.

Morgana ignores him and instead is looking at a old worn out saddle and various other bits of tack.

"Yes, there use to be horses in here. Finest ones in the whole county." Merlin comes towards her with a wheelbarrow of tools.

"Really? How do you know?"

"I use look after them."

"When?" Morgana realises that Merlin is actually talking about himself when before he was really quite vague.

"I was the general maintenance hand here for the Camelot family. But when I was a wee lad here I was the stable boy," he grins and walks out.

The Camelot Family? Who were they? Thinks Morgana.

"Who are the Camelot Family Merlin?" asks Morgana while she is try to copy Merlin's dirt churning technique and failing miserably.

"My old employer," he succinctly replies.

"When you were alive?"

"Yes."

"When Merlin?"

"A long time ago."

Morgana starts to see a forming pattern here. Merlin doesn't really speak much about his actual 'life'. Earlier in the day while they weeded the garden he would talk about the various people who lived here like Bob the Hippie and his loony wife and the children who stayed at the house during World War Two. He was actually quite talkative but when it is about him personally he replies with the most simplest and vaguest of answers.

"Can't you give me a specific date?"

He ignores her and keeps shovelling dirt. Merlin looks pristine, basically because he is immaterial. Whilst Morgana on the others hand has smudges of dirt all over her.

"Ok then I'll stretch the neckerchief to kingdom come if you don't tell me," she threatens and reaches for the silk material that is tied to her upper arm.

But Merlin still doesn't react and continues with his work.

"Fine be that way!" gives up Morgana, "When did you become a stable boy then Merlin?"

"I was fifteen when I was hired by the head of the Camelot family."

"They sound pretty wealthy to have a stable boy. I suppose they had other staff."

"Oh yes, the Camelot Family were the wealthiest family in the whole county. They actually owned all the lands around here, much bigger than your own lands now. Also they built this house and had over twenty staff."

"Why were they so rich?" Morgana figured if she couldn't find out about him she might as well find out about the original owners of the house.

"They owned several coal mines, dabbled in trade but their biggest asset were their horses. Like I said, they had finest horses in the county, maybe even in the whole of England." Merlin said this in such a proud manner Morgana swore he seemed more alive.

"What did they do with the horses?"

"Breed them. For work and riding but mainly for racing."

Now that was a piece of information she could look up on. Morgana's curiosity was continually growing throughout this conversation.

"Any names I know Merlin?"

"Probably not Miss. Pendragon."

"C'mon Merlin stop being so vague with me. I want to know. Don't you want to vent out your life story? You obviously keep a lot to yourself. You were so excited yesterday when we went to town, I suppose it was the town you came from right? I suppose should take you out again. But please Merlin. Pretty please with a cherry on top."

"It's probably best if you don't look into things that you shouldn't," he replied cryptically and suddenly dropped the pitch fork.

Morgana looked at him bewildered until she heard the sound of the car driving down the poplar flanked driveway and the engine stopping behind her.

"Ahh Morgana what an amount of work you have done," stated Uther.

"Great look on you too Morgana," commented Arthur on her dirt covered face sarcastically, "Not sure how you did it with a broken pitchfork though?"

Morgana looked at her pitchfork and realised the two out of four prongs were missing and embedded in the dirt she was churning.

"Hmm yeah. I'm just that great Arthur. I suppose you can give me a lift to town tomorrow to get some new tools and come some flower seedlings to plant tomorrow can you?"

"That is a lovely idea Morgana, Arthur would love to take you," intervened Uther again.

Arthur rolled his eyes, he doesn't think his car can take it any more.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_Thanks for all the lovely reviews. I reckon I toned down the chemistry a lot in this chapter, partially because I think it's a filler chapter in my mind. Hopefully the ball starts rolling in the next. But the next update won't be for a while since I'm going on a holiday._


	6. Guinevere,  Tack and Horses

Hello dear readers, I'm back! :) Actually I came back a while ago but Uni got ahead of me. But I stayed up til 3am to update this.

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 6: Guinevere, Tack and Horses**

They were going into town for what felt like the zillionth time this week. Arthur reckons his car probably did a bazillion miles since moving into the old, wooden house in some obscure location of rural England.

The younger male Pendragon was zoning out from the older Pendragon's currently one sided conversation about cars (probably his still un-roadworthy Mercedes) and horses? But the blond quickly pushed the droning of his father to the back of his mind and concentrated on the road once again, stopping at an intersection, waiting for the traffic to pass by.

In that time, he briefly glanced at his rear view mirror, looking at the reflection. It was of an unusually quiet Morgana (unusual because the raven haired girl spent most of her time teasing him). The reason for this abnormal silence was because she was texting like her life depended on it. Her fingers flying across the screen and then randomly looking at her left window, smiling to herself.

"Who are you texting Morgana? Cause their replies make you grin like the Cheshire cat," commented Arthur as he accelerated the car.

Morgana's fingertips froze above her screen and the green eyed girl looked up, seeing Arthur's reflection on the rear view mirror. "Not anyone that you know of," she replies curtly and begins to resume her texting.

"Really? Not some idiot boyfriend we're not aware of?" he teased.

Uther's eyebrows rose at the comment. He did not like the idea of Morgana having a boyfriend and him never having to meet him. The last one she had he vehemently disliked.

"No. Not a boyfriend Arthur, just a friend. And by the way, actually all my past boyfriends were actually geniuses by simply being _my_ boyfriend. Well except Valiant, that guy was just a clotpole, I must have been out of my mind to date him."

"Agreed about Valiant, but clotpole?" Arthur's forehead furrowed at the strange insult, "What kind of insult is that? Some gibberish?"

"Would you like me to define it to you in simple terms?"

"Yeah sure, if that is even possible for some made up word."

"Arthur Pendragon," she grinned.

"OI! You little b-"

"Arthur! Concentrate on driving," intervened Uther sternly. Though he couldn't help but grin slightly at the prattle coming from his children's mouths, but the Pendragon senior had an image to uphold, "And Morgana that is no way for a lady to behave," he reprimanded.

"Sorry Daddy," she replied meekly in the sickly, sweet innocent voice that Arthur detested and Uther was oblivious too.

"Humphh that's what she always says," Arthur mumbles beneath his breath.

"What did you say Arthur?"

"Umm we finally made it to town today. And here's your shop Morgana, for all your gardening needs."

Arthur pulls the car to the side of the curb in front of a huge maroon shop that looked very much like a shed. It had large words painted in white at the top saying ' Leondegrance Hardware, Bric-A-Brac and Tack'.

"Leondegrance? Isn't that your mechanic's surname father?" asks Arthur.

"Yes, yes I remember Tom saying that they run the local hardware store. Looks like you may meet his daughter Guinevere after all Morgana. Tom said his daughter often manages the shop during summer break."

"I would be delighted to meet her Daddy. Well gotta go, see you soon Daddy, Arthur." Morgana gets out the car with her side bag in tow.

Arthur rolls the window down, "We'll pick you up in an hour or so at the corner cafe. I'll text you when we're finished with whatever we're doing."

"Sure, thanks Arthur," she acknowledges in a civil manner and then watches the car drive off.

Morgana opens her bag and retrieves her speaker ear phones and plugs them into her phone and lazily eying the red, silk material tied on her wrist.

"So Miss Pendragon, what was with the use of my favourite insult? And previous boyfriends?" asks Merlin in his opaque glory yet invisible to the world except her.

He was genuinely curious about her boyfriend comment. The idea of courting many people to find a person to marry was still an idea he couldn't wrap his head around. It just didn't happen in his day. Then, you found a person and courted them with the permission of their parents or your parents just arranged a marriage for you and that was the end of it. When he was introduced to the concept of dating in the 70's, it seemed foreign and bizarre to him. Then again, apparently the 70's was a time of sexual freedom...not that he wanted to remember those times too much.

Merlin looked at Morgana's phone expecting a written reply. He couldn't believe how far the telegram, to telephone (the funny 70's) to mobile has advanced. It was amazing the 'touch screen'. But it was Morgana's ingenious way for them to communicate without her actually verbally speaking out and still appearing normal, whilst he would talk out loud since he was invisible.

"It's an amusing insult. And yeah, had a few boyfriends in high school, none at university though. Most of them were nice but it never lasted. And let's not start on Valiant, he was a true clotpole, actually that is not even a harsh enough description. Who cares though? That was the past and let's finally get into this shop and buy all these gardening tools."

"Don't speak out loud Miss Pendragon, you'll look like a nut case again," Merlin reminds her.

Morgana rolls her jade eyes in a playful way. "Not with these on," she gestures to the speaker ear phones in her ears. To the people who walk pass she was just another teenager talking on their phone via the accessory.

"Alright, let us head in, lead the way Miss Pendragon."

"Please call me Morgana Merlin," she firmly requests, almost orders and walks towards the store entrance.

"No thank you Miss Pendragon. My mother raised me to be a respectful gentlemen, ingrained it into me, body and soul. Soul mainly as you can see. Also it's a die hard habit you may say. And that is saying something since I am already dead. Oh what do you know? This establishment hasn't changed much. Looks pretty similar to how it was back in my day."

Merlin observes the store. The general architecture of the building remained the same, wooden beams, cobblestone floor oddly and large roof openings to let natural light in. Though back in the day those had no glass coverings and aisle upon aisle of hardware products.

"Really? What was it before?" Morgana headed to the gardening tools.

"A blacksmith's forge. See those ceiling windows," he pointed to the ceiling, "They weren't covered before, so to let the smoke from the forge out. They only had shutters at night. And you see the cobblestone floors. Not particularly common back then for an indoor kind of place, but that was because horses were brought in here to be shod and thus any mess they made could be washed away."

Morgana collected the items on the list and listened to Merlin intently. He was sort of indirectly referring to his life. Her lack of knowledge about him frustrated her, while she pretty much spilled out her life story in the days she had known the ghost.

"Wow! How do you know all this?"

"Friend used to work here, he was an apprentice blacksmith and I often brought the Master's horses here to be shod," he replied nonchalantly, "At least horse tack is still sold here, keeping to the original feel." Merlin headed towards the horse tack section and looked through the various bridles and stirrups.

When Morgana finished collecting all the gardening tools shegoes to find Merlin. He couldn't be very far as he isn't able move further than twenty metres of the neckerchief. She finds him admiring a mahogany brown saddle with embossed edging. He has a contemplative expression, as if remembering a fond memory. Morgana moves closer, watching him trace the embossed pattern. Merlin seemed so much in tune with the horse tack, like he was in his element.

"It's a beautiful saddle isn't it?" a feminine voice asks from behind her.

Morgana turns around to see a petite, mocha skinned girl about her age. She was quite pretty in a very girly way, which was saying something since she was wearing a pair of worn jeans, brown boots and a lilac polo. But her curly hair was tied up into a loose bun and had a few flowers pinned into it.

"Yeah the detail is amazing."

"I know, it's made of the finest leathers from Italy and embossed by this old man who lives a few counties away. I hear he only does embossing in candlelight since apparently that's how you can tell the shadowing will be nice and that- wait I'm rambling again. Sorry," she blinks shyly and her cheeks slightly flushed, "Would you like any assistance by the way?"

"I would just like to pay for all these," Morgana lifts her arms full of gardening tools.

"Oh of course, silly me. Here let me carry some and I'll take you to the counter."

Morgana passes some of the products to the mocha girl, lightening her load immensely and walks to the counter, leaving Merlin to his thoughts.

At the counter Morgana and the girl begin some small talk as she processes the various goods.

"That's quite a few tools you have. Big landscaping project I suppose?" she asks.

Morgana smiles, "I suppose so. It's more along the lines of cleaning and weeding."

The girl laughs melodically, filled with good natured warmth, "Ahh one of those projects. You have horse by any chance too? You seemed to really like the saddle."

Morgana shakes her head, "Never even ridden a horse in my life much less own one. You own any horses? I bet you do since you work in a tack shop."

"Use to. Until my mother died from a horse riding accident. Since then, my father has banned my brother and I from horse riding. I miss it. He use to be an avid horse rider too but now he devotes all his attentions to the cars he fixes," she replies sadly.

"I'm sorry to hear that about your mother."

"It's ok, it was a long time ago. And these all come to fifty-seven pounds."

Morgana opens her purse to get some notes out and hands it to her. Poor thing, she has only one parent like herself, a mechanic for a father. Now that Morgana thinks about it, this girl could be...

"Are you by any chance Guinevere Leondegrance?"

The girl widens her doe-brown eyes in surprise, "Yes I am. How do you know?"

"My father is currently getting his car repaired by your father."

"Uther Pendragon?"

"That's the man," confirms Morgana.

"So that must mean you are Morgana Pendragon unless Arthur has become a girl's name."

Morgana giggles at the thought, "The one and only Morgana Pendragon. Arthur is actually my prat of a brother. Nice to meet you Guinevere." She shakes hands with Guinevere.

"Please call me Gwen, Guinevere is just too much of a mouthful. And welcome to the middle of nowhere England," Gwen re-greets.

"Thanks Gwen, I think you are actually my first friend here."

Gwen blushes, "Aww I'm flattered Morgana. But thank you." She hands Morgana her bags of gardening tools and the other things that don't fit in the bag.s

"Thank you." Morgana then hears her phone chime, "Well I think that's my prattish brother telling me his coming. Gotta go, I'll see you around. Bye." Morgana exits the shop with Gwen waving at her.

* * *

><p>Morgana was at the corner cafe having a milkshake and reading the newspaper with Merlin leaning over reading it too. When she left the store Merlin awoke from his thoughts and was practically dragged to follow Morgana.<p>

She watches the ghost read the advert for the annual summer fair intently. It was one of the highlights of the county seemingly. It had fair rides, craft and produce markets, but the popular exhibits were the animal contests which ranged from best pig, trained dogs to horse dressage competitions. However, the main highlight was the final horse race, the race the kicked off the racing season in the county. Morgana then looked and admired a photo of a horse and its rider snapped during a dressage competition. They looked impeccable and in total synch with each other, even if it was only an image.

Thinking of horses it reminded her of Merlin's intrigue with the saddles and various bits of tack. "So Merlin, you like horses a lot it appears?" her earphones are still on so she doesn't look like a total weirdo.

"One usually does after they spent a good chunk of their life looking after the creatures."

"Oh yeah, you were a stable boy right?"

"Sure was."

Morgana had nothing to go with that two word response. However, at this stage she could see Arthur driving down the street toward her.

"Where's Uther?" Morgana asks the blond as she hops into the front passenger seat and looks at the rear view mirror to see Merlin whoosh into the back seat. She smiles to herself, amused by the weirdness yet comfortableness of it all.

Arthur pulls the car out and starts driving, "Going to pick him up now. He's at Mercia Stables."

Morgana frowns, confused at the answer, "Mercia Stables. Stables as for horses?"

"What other kind stables are there Morgana? Of course for horses," sarcastically replies Arthur.

"What's he doing there?"

"No clue."

"Weren't you with him he whole entire time?"

"Nope," he pops the p, "Was off doing other things."

After about twenty minutes of driving they arrive at a posh estate with grand stables at the back. She could see Uther leaning against a fence post with a long haired man, and judging by his expression, discussing something intently.

The siblings get out of the car and head to their father (accompanied by Merlin unbeknownst to Arthur). When they reach him, Uther is shaking hands with the man, and smiling broadly.

"It will be a pleasure doing business with you Uther. I see this racing partnership taking us very far," the man states.

"It will indeed Cenred. When will I see the horse in action?"

"In a moment. My son Alvarr is currently tacking the beast and you'll see how grand this partnership will be Uther."

Uther smiles and realises his children have arrived and ushers the two closer, "Ahh Cenred these are my children, you have already met Arthur my eldest son and this is Morgana, my daughter."

"Morgana, Arthur, this is Cenred Mercia of Mercia Stables. He trains racing horses and I now officially own half of one of his finest racing stallions Nero."

Morgana smiles at Cenred, she doesn't like him much, something about his appearance seems manipulative and lecherous. "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Mercia."

"Please call me Cenred Morgana. Mr. Mercia makes me sound like my father. Uther you have a beautiful daughter."

Uther swells up with pride, "Yes Morgana is beautiful."

Before Uther could continue, the four people hear the heavy pounding of hooves and then suddenly a magnificent black stallion jumps the already tall fence and lands to where they are standing.

Merlin up until now has been unresponsive and uninterested at the situation. But seeing the pitch black giant of a horse was amazing. It was at least 18 hands tall and muscles clearly rippled beneath the sleek coat. But its rider had an air of arrogance, which is a big thing considering he was in close proximity to Arthur the Prat.

Morgana was in awe of the horse like everyone else. She has never been so close to one. Her private school offered riding lessons but she opted for fencing classes instead. Now she regrets that, seeing the gorgeous stallion. She then watched the rider get off the beast and take of his helmet, releasing his ash blond locks from confinement and then look at her intensely with his grey-green eyes. Morgana immediately feel herself warm up under his gaze.

"Well, Mr. Pendragon, half of this beautiful stallion belongs to you. Did you see how easily he jumped the fence? It shows the true power in those hindquarters, those powerful racing legs." Alvarr reaches to shake Uther's hand whom grips it firmly

"Indeed Alvarr, but you shouldn't be so reckless with such an expensive horse and investment," sternly says Cenred.

"Sorry father."

"It's ok Cenred. Alvarr seems to be a fine lad here. Alvarr this is my son Arthur and my daughter Morgana. I believe Arthur and yourself are the same age and Morgana two years your junior," introduces Uther.

Arthur and Alvarr shake hands in a very manly way, gripping each other to see who would forfeit. Neither do of course. But ultimately Alvarr let's go so he could greet Morgana.

Morgana holds out her hand for handshake, "Nice to meet you Alvarr, that is a beautiful horse you have."

Alvarr instead twists the position of her hand and kisses her knuckles softly and greets, "Pleasure to meet you too Morgana. I don't think the horse is beautiful when compared to your beauty beside it." He smiles charmingly and releases her hand.

Morgana blushes immediately, her ivory cheeks becoming rosy red. "Thank you Alvarr."

Arthur looks between the two and wants to puke. But Merlin on the other hand looks at Alvarr suspiciously. He gets a funny feeling from the man. He denies the feeling is jealousy and settles it as concern.

_Author's Notes_

_Another introduction/filler chapter. Next update is where the actual plot of the story is coming about (in a more foreseeable way) and more Morgana-Merlin interaction. And for your information I've planned this story to be about 12-14 chapters, so yes the first half was a slow mover but the pace should quicken from here on. Comments and reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!_


	7. Apple Grove

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter Seven: Apple Grove**

"I still can't believe Uther spent over a million pounds on a horse?" exclaims Morgana as she planted some geraniums into the garden bed. She wiped her brow of the sweat gathered there from her exertions in the late morning sun.

"Horse racing is an excitable business. Risky but the rewards can be great," answers Merlin, ignoring the fact that Morgana is talking to thin air in anyone else's point of view.

Uther and Arthur had drove back to town earlier in the morning to finally get the Mercedes, so thus for the time, Merlin and Morgana were able to talk. However, soon it could mean that Arthur would be staying at the house more often instead of driving Uther around. Merlin decides to mention this to Morgana.

The beauty shrugs, "I don't know yet. Wouldn't have any new ideas besides texting. But still can you believe we now own this ridiculously expensive yet gorgeous horse?"

"You Pendragons are a wealthy lot. Even I can see that. So it looks perfectly normal for your father to expand his investments in other branches," he replies in a logical manner and then wipes his hands on his trouser leg before fidgeting with his neckerchief. This article of clothing never leaves him, even his brown jacket was off, an odd phenomenon (though one could also consider that talking to a ghost was even odder and that floating tools and plants were just plain supernatural).

He just wore a baggy, blue long sleeve underneath, it was rolled up and on his right forearm was an inked tri-coiled symbol, a tattoo. When he first rolled up the sleeve Morgana asked whether if he could feel the heat and what the tattoo represented. Merlin shrugged the tattoo off as a family tradition and that he couldn't feel temperature at all, it was just force of habit to remove his jacket.

"You really think so Merlin? How would you know about racing anyways?" she continues.

"Worked in the horse racing industry for a little and I can see that fine beast would be a wise investment if trained well," he says complacently and plants one of the few remaining plants they had.

Morgana raises a curious brow, hers eyes twinkled in excitement, "You worked in the racing industry? As a stable boy?"

"Yeah sort of, did some basic training exercises. Aye! Don't look at me like that. And no, I wasn't a jockey. Do I look short enough to be one?" he crinkled his eyes at Morgana's bewildered expression.

Her lips formed a mischievous grin, "You look light enough to be one though," she teased, patting the soil down around another plant before reaching for the hose to water the newly created garden.

Merlin rolled his eyes, comments on his thin physique are ones he has heard too often, even in death. "Thin is good right? But you see here Miss Pendragon, there is actually a great body underneath this garb. Not all of us can be like the Mercia boy with our top buttons about to pop off," he says in a joking way, though there was a hint of dislike when he referred to 'the Mercia boy'.

"Hmm, Alvarr was quite well built. But I don't believe you until I see the proof," slips out of Morgana's mouth, the palm of her hand flies to cover her traitorous mouth.

It was Merlin's turn to raise a curious eyebrow, "I think that would be highly inappropriate Miss Pendragon. And I don't think it would even be possible."

Morgana was blushing furiously as Merlin didn't do the usually styled 'reply with something vague' answer and continued teasing her instead. In response Morgana turned the hose on Merlin and sprayed water at him.

Merlin grinned in amusement as he watched the water go right through him. Morgana forgot that he was a ghost at times. Merlin looked solid, like a physical, opaque person. However, she then remembered the red neckerchief on her wrist and began to undo it from its current place.

It was then that Merlin remembered the unique properties of his neckerchief and his amused expression of quickly changed.

Morgana grinned like the Cheshire cat with a saucer of fresh cream just as she aimed the hose at the neckerchief and soaked it with water. She watched Merlin in a fascinated way as he and his jacket nearby just became wet, like he was standing in a storm. His face was just as entertaining for he had a grumpy expression, though most of it was faux grumpiness but it was made more comical by how his thick, black hair clumped together in strange angles and clung to his forehead.

Laughter escaped her lips, her head thrown back and hair loosed from its tie and fly across her back. Merlin watched in dismay but he hastily grabbed the hose from Morgana's hands and aimed the torrent of water at her, soaking the Pendragon before turning it off neatly.

She gasped at the sensation. Feeling refreshed yet the wet feeling was unwarranted. Morgana glared at the ghost who was holding the dripping hose.

"Now we're even," Merlin stated bluntly but his azure eyes said otherwise.

Morgana continues to glare at him with her lips pouting and cheeks blown up in grouchiness. Merlin laughs at her this time, she looks like a blown up porcupine fish with her long hair clinging to to her body and bits of it sticking up in odd angles too.

"Fine then," she snaps, and then laughs jovially, joining him because they look like a matching pair of idiots.

* * *

><p>After cleaning up they are in the kitchen having lunch on the bench. Really, it was only Morgana eating lunch and Merlin watching her eat.<p>

Morgana gently prodded an olive before placing it in her mouth (she was having a salad, one of those pre-packed supermarket salads) and chewing slowly, whilst she could feel Merlin's gaze burning into her, making it very awkward. She just didn't like people (or ghosts for the matter) watching her eat.

"Could you please stop watching me eat, it feels weird," she snaps suddenly and placing the fork beside the bowl.

He looks in the other direction and whistling a merry tune.

Morgana could see that the ghost is trying to hold back his laughter. She frowns and tries to poke him with her fork but it goes through him as expected.

"Hey! Watch it!" Merlin announces in mock anger but then a giggle escapes him.

She gives him a look of disbelief. "Haha very funny. I suppose it's more pay back from the hose before isn't it?"

Merlin raises an eyebrow and Morgana sticks her tongue out in retaliation before returning to the lousy salad, prodding another olive.

"God! I can't eat this," she complains, "It's so bland."

"It looks good to me," compliments Merlin, "I'll eat it...if I could."

"If you could?"

"Does it look like I can digest anything in this form?"

"Yes since you look solid to me but alas I can't even stab you with a fork," she sighs.

"Haha very funny," he echoes her words, "Good thing you can't."

"When was the last time you ate Merlin?"

"A long time ago," Merlin replies in his familiar vague answers.

Morgana ignores it and decides to tackle it in another way, "What was the last thing you ate? If you can even remember."

Merlin eyes glazed over like he was remembering a fond memory, just like at the Leondegrance shop with the saddle. "It was cook's, Mary, famous apple crumble and custard. She managed to sneak me a serving in the morning before I headed into the city to pick the Lady up from the station."

Morgana was surprised, but she didn't show it. That one tiny snippet of information was the largest snippet of personal information she managed to get out of her ghost. It made Morgana more curious about her undead friend.

"Apple crumble? Now it has been a long time since I've made that," she remarks.

"You can make apple crumble?" Merlin's eyes seemed to sparkle at the statement.

"Can do. Was the first recipe we did during home economics class in high school. Too bad I don't have any apples here at the moment or I could bake some for tonight."

He slides of his stool, "Luckily for you I know the perfect place to get apples. They should be ripe now if the trees are still standing." Merlin heads for the door and then stops. "Aren't you coming Miss Pendragon? Because if you don't go I can't go."

Morgana places her dish in the sink and looks at him, "Where are you going?"

"To my secret hideout," he winks impishly at her. Being very un-Merlin like in Morgana's limited opinion.

* * *

><p>The pair are later found trudging along the banks of the lake, Morgana holding an empty wicker basket in one arm. She found the lake very beautiful, it was serene and calm, the soft blues contrasting with the dense forest on one side and the rolling greens of the field on the other. Morgana only then realised she barely explored the land that accompanied the house Uther bought.<p>

Merlin strolled confidently through the landscape, like his legs were well practiced and knew where they were taking them though not having been to this part of the estate in many years. He begins to enter the forest, between the birch and ash trees.

"Why are we going in there Merlin?" asks Morgana with what seems to be a hint of fear.

"To get to the apples of course Miss Pendragon."

"Apple trees don't grown in there. There's not enough light for it."

"Well the forest seems a bit over grown as of late but where the trees are I assure it's not dark nor scary," he lightly teases.

Morgana grips onto her basket more tightly, "It's not funny _Mer-_lin. When I was eight I got lost in the Forest of Dean for seven hours. When the search party found me, I was bawling my eyes out cause I thought I was going to die."

Merlin immediately felt ashamed at his behaviour, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that if I had known," he apologises.

Morgana looks at him closely, his apology was so earnest one cannot simply refuse. "Apology accepted," she smiles lightly, her hair ruffling in the light summer breeze as she enters into the edge of the forest.

He grins back at her, "Well if there is anything in there, I'll be your knight in shining armour."

Merlin's statement lightens the mood. "You don't look like a knight at all. Just some skinny, little servant-stable boy," she smirks.

"Hmmph, you forget I have magical powers Miss Pendragon."

"Yeah, yeah, you can be my knight in shining armour even though you're not solid," she chortles forgetting his earlier quip and follows Merlin deeper into the the forest.

It was a while before the conversation reignited again - with Morgana whining.

"Are we there yet? I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes over four times today." She tripped over several times within thirty minutes and currently her bottom is in contact with the soil again.

The forest was dense, the old trees branches spreading out wide, letting only fragments of light through. But the roots were what Morgana was cautious of. They were thick and convoluted, occasionally emerging from the undergrowth, posing a 'danger' for the city girl. Morgana picks herself up from the floor and brushes the leaves and dirt off her jeans. Merlin ignores her and takes a few steps ahead. Morgana felt a little rejected but quickly quashes the feeling.

When she first fell over Merlin offered his hand to help her up but when she reached for it her hand went through his.

"Sorry." Merlin's eyes appear apologetic.

She smiled good naturedly, "I forget you aren't alive sometimes."

"Me too," agrees Merlin softly.

Since that incident Merlin didn't offer help at all, typically ignoring her. It was very different from his usual overly polite mannerisms.

Merlin pushes a low lying branch to the side, making room for Morgana to pass through.

"Welcome to my secret hide out."

Morgana walks towards the shaft of light Merlin revealed when he pushed the branch to the side and enters into a beautiful grove of apple trees. Light shone in brights rays into the grove. The emerald green trees were heavy with fruit, the apple looked like rubies and their fragrance were soft and sweet.

"Wow," breathed Morgana, "It's amazing." Her eyes were flitting everywhere, trying to look at everything at once.

"I know. I used to pass the time here when I was a lad."

Merlin plucked a rosy apple from a tree and tossed it to Morgana. She caught it with one hand, rubbed it on her shirt until it was glossy and took a bite out of it. It was juicy and crunchy, its sweet tart flavour attacking every one of her taste buds.

"And eat apples," he grinned cheekily.

"Mmmhmm," was all she could reply, her mouth full of apples.

* * *

><p>They spent the rest of the afternoon in the grove. Morgana picked enough apples to fill her entire basket, at first Merlin helped her, reaching for the apples highest on the tree. However, Morgana shooed him away complaining that it was ruining her self esteem (her silly height insecurities). Merlin then settled to sit on the grass and watch her shuffle between tree to tree in the grove. When she finishes she sits down next him cross-legged with a basketful of apples.<p>

"This really is an amazing place Merlin," Morgana turns to look at him. Merlin's arms were behind him outstretched, so he was supporting his mass (if it existed) on his forearms.

"Thank you, it is my secret hide out," he replies charmingly, looking up at Morgana whose eyes now appeared like the green of the leaves on an apple tree. He straightens himself up so he is at eye level with her. "Not so secret anymore is it?"

Morgana gives out a short burst of laughter, "Not at all. But it will be a secret between you and me," she whispers it as if it were a conspiracy. "Did you ever show anyone else this place?"

Merlin looks up to the canopy, seeing the glimpses of light between the leaves and his mind was gone faraway.

"I did a long time ago," he whispers.

"Who?" she asks equally as quiet.

"They died a long time ago." Feelings of sadness swept through him.

"Oh I'm sorry." Morgana feels bad for mentioning it, seeing that it saddens her Merlin immensely.

"No need to apologise. Such is life."

Merlin looks at her, his sapphire eyes meeting her jade ones and smiles sadly. Morgana watches him, she observes him. She wonders how such a wonderful person got stuck on the earthly, or how such a young and obviously fit man die at such a young age. But now was not the right time to ask. Instead Morgana feels something pull her to him and she reacts. She leans over towards him and presses her lips against his.

But she feels nothing.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_Are you guys proud of me? I've updated on time...sort of! But don't get to use to it, uni is being a bi- and this is my way to temporarily avoid Animal Physiology. So who thinks I was crossing that friendship line again? I can't help it! Mergana is just so beautiful I wanna cry T_T. But I am trying to prevent this from being a romance (it's so challenging). Had to split this chapter in two. Anyway thanks for all the lovely reviews. You guys are the best! :D_


	8. Aithusa

**Don't shoot me! Yeah university and real life has been hectic. Enough said let's begin.**

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter Eight: Aithusa**

But she feels nothing.

Nothing but air.

Her pouty lips found nothing to press against. They just went through Merlin. Her nose melded through his nose and her lips felt nothing but the cool summer air beneath the grove.

Merlin was shocked, his blue orbs were as wide as saucers, highlighting the paleness of his ivory skin and shock of dark hair. His lips that were usually full and finely shaped were now pressed into a thin line. Speechlessness is what his mouth became.

Morgana could not believe what she just tried to do. She moved back from him, clumsily away from Merlin, giving him a little room. Morgana was equally as speechless, her mouth opened to say something, anything, but no sound came from her throat.

She had effectively ruined their friendship.

Still nothing came to her mouth to express her apologies. Instead there were these feelings stirring within, making her do things she would never consider. Morgana brought one delicate hand and reached for one of Merlin's finely, chiseled cheekbones.

But just as she was about to _touch _it, Merlin whooshed from view, leaving a blur suffusing in the light rays filtering into the grove. Morgana looked around the grove and she didn't see him and then suddenly he appeared near one of the apple trees, leaning against the twisted trunk like he was out of breath.

"Merlin I-"

"It's nothing Miss Pendragon," he cut her off firmly.

Merlin took a deep breath, fingers clawed into the tree, leaving gauge marks in its wake. He had this frightened and conflicted look, but just as quick as it appeared it disappeared.

"It was nothing Miss Pendragon. I forgive you," he continues formally.

Morgana again tries to speak up but he doesn't let her.

"I am honoured that you feel such emotions unto me. However, I believe any liaisons between us will be inappropriate, especially in circumstances such as mine," he pauses, "And I believe no good will ever come out of it Miss Pendragon," Merlin states with utterly no emotion.

Even with the logical and cool manner he speaks, Morgana senses that he is holding back. But she is unsure, coupled with the fact she has been openly rejected in the most polite manner known to man kind – ghost kind in this situation.

"I'm sorry," she apologises again, trying to hide the disappointment she feels and the complete foolishness evoked from her after Merlin's speech.

"No need to apologise Miss Pendragon," Merlin takes a few steps to exit the grove, "Trust me, it is better off this way."

Morgana looks at him solemnly, she collects her basket full of apples and stands up to follow the ghost. But then she hears a rustling among the bushes along the edge of the grove. Morgana freezes, memories of her fear when she was lost in the Forest of Dean flash before her eyes.

Her back becomes rigid and tense. Merlin too then notices the movement of branches and hears the snapping of twigs by the edge. Whatever it was, it was big; for some branches that were above five feet tall were shaking violently. Merlin glides to Morgana side in attempt to reassure her, but how does one do that without physical action?

Morgana is slightly comforted by Merlin's presence next to her but she remains tense.

The bushes begin to shake more violently and then a head pops out from between the branches - a head of a horse. The animal brushes past the trees, revealing it to be beautiful creature the colour of snow. It had a delicate head and with its muzzle the horse stretched out for a ruby red apple and began chomping on it, breaking the silence.

Morgana looked Merlin who was looking at her likewise with a quirked eyebrow and a teasing expression. She didn't say a thing, instead she crossed her arms (basket resting in the crook of her elbow) and looked at the opposite direction with a snobby, pouty faced, utterly embarrassed by her overreaction.

With that in mind, a little thought flitted at the back of her brain. What did she feel for Merlin? Was he just a friend with all the teasing? Or what was that 'kiss', just a passing moment?

Nevertheless, she loudly began stomping out of the grove, kicking the leaves into the air. She must have made quite a bit of noise because the white horse looked up and saw Morgana and then it saw her basket full of apples. The creature started moving towards her, to whom she stepped a few steps back until her back met a tree trunk.

The horse's head arched over and with its snout started snuffling her. It was a very pleasant feeling, the nose was really quite soft, not what Morgana had expected. Its nose trailed down her bare forearm, tickling her. A giggle escaped her lips, but then the horse found her basket of apples and took one into its mouth and chomped right into it with a crunch.

"Hey!" Morgana pulled the basket out of the horse's way, "Those are not for you."

The horse ignored her and tried to reach for the basket, to which Morgana strained her arms away from the creature.

Meanwhile Merlin watched with an amused expression and the current predicament that Morgana had found herself in. But after a moment he decided it was time to rescue her from the overly-friendly horse. He walked over to Morgana and the horse with the intention to lead it somewhere else, as Merlin had found out some many years ago that animals can indeed sense him. The animal kingdom really did have a sixth sense.

"C'mon boy, leave her alone. Those aren't for you," he says in a soothing manner and _pats_ the horse like how he used to when he was a stable boy.

But the creature doesn't budge.

"Don't worry Merlin," Morgana says tensely, still feeling awkward about the near kiss, "We'll just return back to the house. I doubt the horse would follow us back."

Merlin raises a single eyebrow, "My experience with horses says otherwise Miss Pendragon."

* * *

><p>During the walk it was quiet, awkwardly so. This included the horse following a few footsteps behind.<p>

The silence was tense, fragilely so.

"About before…." Merlin trails off.

"Don't worry it's all in the past. Nothing happened," she replies quickly.

"Alright," he agrees all too eagerly.

Morgana nods in confirmation, but she feels a little barrier forming between the two of them just after she broke forward. It seems so one step forward and two steps back with Merlin.

* * *

><p>And Merlin's experience was very much correct. The white horse- gray actually; according to Merlin's encyclopaedic knowledge about the four-legged creatures followed them back to the vast field the Pendragon estate included.<p>

"Shoo! Shoo horsey," Morgana gestured toward the forest they exited out from.

Merlin watched the woman in amusement with her bizarre sign language. "I don't think it's going to leave. It appears quite fond of you Miss Pendragon."

"I know. But I can't keep it here. But I would really like too."

"Really? You want to keep a horse? Even so, Uther wouldn't allow it buuuut I suppose what he doesn't know won't hurt him, correct?"

Morgana turns around and ponders at the question until a devious smile forms on her face. "I never thought you were such a rebel Merlin?"

"Well you don't know much of me."

"Because you don't tell me much."

Merlin shrugs, again ignoring the prompt, "Well the stables are still in good condition. It just needs some TLC and maybe you can keep the chestnut. But do you even know how to ride?"

"No. But you can teach me right?" she has a pleading look in her green eyes.

They were very hard to resist. "I would like to say yes. But remember I'm not alive so it will appear very odd if you started riding all by yourself. I suggest your friend Gwen could teach you. Nevertheless we need to get supplies from her tack shop and you still owe me that apple crumble," Merlin grins.

"Yah yah. But you can't even eat it."

"It's the principle Miss Pendragon. I will forever cherish apple crumble."

"Yes as I forever loathe bland supermarket salads."

They look at each other for a moment until the burst into fits of laughter.

Merlin and Morgana take the horse to the old stable where they got the gardening tools.

"So what are you going to name the horse Miss Pendragon?"

Morgana thinks for a moment, "Aithusa," she pets Aithusa behind her ear, "You shall be called Aithusa.

She then turned on her heel quickly to go back to the house to whip up the 'cherishable' apple crumble. Leaving Merlin feeling like an anvil just fell on his head.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_And there goes another chapter, turned out to be another slow burner and rather bland. Really the next one is where the plot starts moving…I hope. Put this on alert since I have no clue when I'll update this. And thank you for all the lovely reviews_


	9. Visitors

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 9: Visitors**

For the rest of the afternoon in the orange light that streamed through the kitchen window Merlin sat on a stool whilst he silently watched Morgana deftly peel apples with a knife and the ruby skin twirling off the fruit into a singular fiery ribbon. There was something comforting about peeling fruit; seeing the white, crisp flesh being unveiled like a pearl in an oyster.

It remained like this for the entire cooking session until Morgana put on a pair of oven gloves to retrieve the the baking dish. The apple crumble came out a golden brown colour, like that of fresh hay. The smell was also divine. She went to the fridge to get out a tub of vanilla ice cream and retrieved a clean plate from the cupboard. With a large spoon she broke through the crumble of muesli and sugar and into the golden treasure below – the well baked apple with its spicy cinnamon goodness. She placed a nice amount of that onto the plate and then placed a generous scoop of ice cream on the side.

"Ta-da!" she exclaims her eyes twinkling with satisfaction as she held the plate to Merlin.

"It looks amazing Miss Pendragon!" He compliments as his eyes sweep the plate greedily.

"Well thank you very much," she grins, "I think I'll take a bite out of it to see if it's taste good as it looks. It's too bad that you can't have some, I'll like to have the critique of someone who considers themselves as an apple crumble connoisseur."

Merlin simply nods solemnly with a grim smile which he quickly hides.

Morgana takes a small spoonful in her mouth. The apple immediately melts onto her tongue, the soft texture sweeping across it whilst the crumble gives it the extra crunch. "Mmmm," is all she can enunciate.

Merlin watches her intensely savouring the dessert until he catches himself observing the spectacle in a more inappropriate way than intended. Then he tried with all his power to ignore the satisfied expression on her face and peculiar noises she was making. It was very difficult indeed.

"You're right Merlin. Apple crumble is great, and if I must say so myself, my recipe came out quite well. It's a shame that you can't have any," her eyes are wide and doe-like, highlighting her jade irises in the blood orange light.

Footsteps then were heard coming from the hallway and enters Uther and Arthur with several full bags of shopping.

"Mmmhmmm, is that apple crumble I smell and spy here Morgana?" asks Uther as he settles a few bags on the kitchen bench.

"Yes father, would you like to try some?" Morgana beams and offers him as she smacks Arthur away, who out of his own initiative (or cheekiness) was trying to snag a bite without her permission.

"No thank you, I'll take a raincheck on that, and Arthur too because we are going to have people over for dinner."

"We are?" asks Arthur.

"You shouldn't look so surprised Arthur. We did just go grocery shopping," Uther frowns.

Morgana tries to hide a smirk but then asks, "Who is coming over?"

"Mr. Mercia, his wife and his son Elvis was it?" creases formed on Uther's head trying to think of the name.

"Alvarr you mean father," piped Morgana, remembering the charming man from the other day.

Arthur rolled his blue eyes at the tone of Morgana's voice, it was one of those guys. Merlin too cocked an eyebrow at her slightly enthused tone too. The Alvarr chap did seem like a fine person and rider too but there was an air of arrogance and untrustworthiness that hung around the apparently roguish man.

"Yeah him, well I believe we must get ready. Chop chop you two and be presentable," ordered Uther clapping his hands.

* * *

><p>Morgana was untying the knot on her apron when the Mercias arrived at the estate. She quickly removes the piece and hangs it behind the kitchen door before heading to greet their guests while neatening up her hair and straightening her outfit in attempt to get rid of any wrinkles.<p>

Morgana was wearing a rouge coloured dress that stops right before her knees. It is highly form fitting but is covers most of her skin since it has long, tight sleeves and relatively high cut since it covers most of her chest. However, the back is entirely made of red, floral patterned lace that shows some of her skin and stops at the small of her back. Morgana has her black, wavy locks tied up high with Merlin's neckerchief to emphasise the lace. Merlin teasingly smirks at her girly attentions, seeing that the dress is extremely well fitted and he very much doubts that any wrinkles could even form. She reacts by poking her tongue out at him.

When she reaches the front door Uther and Arthur were already greeting Mr and Mrs Mercia and their son Alvarr. Uther looks genuinely happy that the Mercias have come whilst Arthur was feigning politeness by helping Mrs Mercia out of her coat and hanging it on the coatstand. But really Morgana knew that forced expression too well, he rather be somewhere else for sure.

Dinner was an average affair. The food was alright in Morgana's opinion, her cooking skills were not downright horrible but they weren't good enough to warrant Mrs Mercia's, who insists in being called Morgause, never ending praise. Maybe it was the few nifty tips that she received from Merlin that made the food 'delightful'? Nevertheless the conversation was small talk and mainly about the training of Nero, the stallion Uther and Cenred had invested in.

"The training is going quite well. The stallion is gaining muscle at a consistent rate. I think we can have the beast race by the Summer Fair Races. Don't you think Alvarr?" Cenred spears at a piece of roast before looking toward his son.

"Nero shall be ready by then, though I'm not sure if George can handle the beast. He's not stern enough. Nero is quite spirited."

"Nonsense, George should be fine. For all his OCD, that obsession for perfection is what we need."

Morgana zones out of the conversation. She looks toward Arthur who seems to be caught into another unwanted discussion with Morgause. Then she looks behind him and sees Merlin floating around in and out the walls and into other rooms. He looks just as bored as Arthur is. She begins to fiddle with stray lock of hair and then the end of Merlin's neckerchief in attempt to ward of boredom.

"The colour red look lovely on you Morgana," compliments Alvarr with a small smile on his face before his takes a sip out of his wine glass.

Morgana flushes a bit, "Umm well thank you Alvarr. You look very fine too."

He is wearing a black trousers, a red button down with no tie and the leather jacket which is on the coat stand.

"Now you're just flattering me. I didn't even bother with a tie, much to my mother's disdain," he grins and nods towards Arthur's direction and the blond still looking cornered. Morgana didn't bother helping him, she loves watching him squirm.

"Well it's the bad boy look isn't it Alvarr?"

"If you like to think that way Morgana. Since red is the naughty colour," he looks at her attire attentively.

Morgana smirks, "Well maybe I'm a naughty girl?" she plays innocently with the neckerchief in her hair, twisting it between her fingertips.

She looks at Merlin and sees his discomfort. Then she remembers that he reacts when the silk material is being distorted. She lets her hand fall away and reached for her glass.

"Maybe you are. That is an interesting hair ornament you have there. It allows an interesting view of that floral lace you have."

She ignores the latter, "Thank you. I'm quite fond of it. It's vintage silk."

"I see. It even has the letter M embroidered into it, how suitable."

"I know, I was so lucky to find it."

Before Alvarr could reply Uther asks Morgana to bring dessert down. Arthur immediately offers to help Morgana and goes into the kitchen with her.

"So how was the conversation with Mrs Mercia?" she grins at Arthur's disgusted expression as she places slices of apple crumble onto the plates.

"Let's say, I do not want to have dinner with her ever again. What about you Morgana? You and Alvarr seem to be getting chummy there and your blatant flirting. Seriously, don't you even bother trying to hide it?" Arthur scoops up ice-cream and adds it to the plate.

"It's all a bit of fun. He's actually quite nice."

Arthur snorts, "Nice. Just a few compliments make him nice? He's practically undressing you with his eyes at the dinner table."

"Well you're just jealous that you don't have any admirers here."

"Yeah well I am a London boy. This country bumpkin town has absolutely no pretty birds to admire, nor they me. Plus they are too beneath me."

"You're so up yourself Arthur."

"And you're too easy."

"HEY!"

"Will you two stop bickering and bring dessert? We can't make the Mercias wait any longer," interrupts Uther who enters the kitchen to grab another bottle of wine.

"This taste amazing Morgana," compliments Alvarr before he places another mouthful of apple crumble in his mouth.

"I concur. Absolutely divine," assures Cenred. Morgause continues to gush out large amounts of praise.

"Thank you," Morgana blushes again at the compliments.

Afterwards, the rest of the dinner went by fairly normal til the end when the Mercias were leaving.

Morgana kisses the cheeks of Mrs Mercia while bidding her farewell before turning to Alvarr who looks at her with that roguish smile. Morgana holds her hand out for him to shake.

"Don't I get a kiss?"

"No you don't."

He places his hand over his heart and feigns heartbreak and disgrace, but once again he twists her hand around and kisses her knuckles and then straightens himself up.

"Well you Miss Pendragon get my kisses. I hope to see you next time."

She blushes intensely at this but he then leaves with his family before she can reply.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_What did you think about it? Boring cause there wasn't enough friendship!Mergana fluff (I know quite of few of you want a romance but I'm refraining just this once. I tell you what, if I get enough reviews with this and defeat my Remembering block [Mordred seriously is a hard guy to portray so waiting for S5 ep2 to see how he plays out] I'll tell you my next romance ideas, which honestly have been bugging me for ages and may start which I really shouldn't) or your hatred for something or anything else I can improve on. I love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for the lovely reviews from last chapter, it totally boosts my motivation plus OMG the new season episode one was amazing! _


	10. Training

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 10: Training**

Merlin and Morgana were in the stables at the back of the estate again cleaning the white horse, Aithusa, with the little amount of horse gear that was found there. Merlin expertly brushed Aithusa with one of the old worn objects found. His face steeled in concentration as he guided the brush up and down the mare's neck, making her coat sleek and glossy. He was so in tuned with the horse that was currently munching on a few apples they gave her.

"So nice and shiny aren't you girl," he practically cooed to Aithusa as he rested his head against the horse's nose. Aithusa whinnied in response.

Morgana giggled at the sight and then sighed. She wasn't sure if Aithusa could really see him or was it the special sixth sense animals had, but then again Merlin can make objects levitate and move. "You're so good with horses Merlin. You can do, like everything."

"Thank you Miss Pendragon. I try my best with what we have here. By the way when is Miss Leondegrance arriving?"

"Hopefully in an hour. I feel bad disturbing her on her day off."

"I see. Well to make things easier maybe I shall teach you a few things first. Do you know how to brush a horse Miss?"

"No, but I just saw you do it so it can't be that hard. All you did was pick the brush," Morgana picked up the item and flicking some hairs off the bristles, "And brush." She began stroking it up and down Aithusa's mane. However, the horse seemed to have other ideas and shook her head, brushing Morgana away and then taking a few steps away from the green eyed girl.

Morgana eyes narrowed, taking Aithusa's disobedience as a challenge. She brought the brush to the white horse's withers and began there. Alas, Aithusa took another few steps in the other direction away from Morgana again.

Merlin laughed at the sight, "I don't think she likes you very much. But we must remember Aithusa is a wild horse which acts very tame," he says matter-of-factly, "Here let me show you again."

Merlin rearranges his red neckerchief, his constant accessory and then reaches for the brush in Morgana's hand. Morgana saw his pale, long fingered hand move to hers, she steadies herself as she watches his hand glide through her fingers and then a tug from the brush out of her hands. Her green eyes glance at his blue ones, his expression passive.

From there he glided the brush through Aithusa's hairs the correct way, showing the Morgana the appropriate way to handle the horse. Afterward he showed her how to braid her mane and tail, delicately gathering the fine hairs into neat little plaits.

Morgana found braiding Aithusa's hair much more enjoyable than brushing her. She liked how the soft mane felt between her fingers. She worked in a contemplative silence until Merlin interrupted her from his seat in the corner of the horses stable.

"So why the name Aithusa Miss Pendragon?" he asks curiously.

Morgana weaves another knot before she replies, "I don't know. It's not even a real name or word I think. Yet, it feels right. You know, just one of those in a whim moments?"

"I suppose so. However, you are incorrect in one aspect."

"And what aspect may that be Merlin?"

Merlin gets up from the ground and reaches to pat Aithusa, looking into the horse's warm brown eyes. "Aithusa means 'light of the sun'," he whispers almost inaudibly.

Morgana is not sure how to reply but simply looks at the ghost and nods silently. However, Morgana is quickly startled when she hears the loud rumbling of a pickup truck. Morgana quickly stops what she is doing and heads outside with Merlin following her.

Outside the stables was an old run down pickup truck with Gwen in the driver's seat. She stops the engine and Gwen gets out, which turns out being quite amusing to watch since the vehicle looks immense in comparison to the petite girl.

"Hi Gwen. Thank you so much for coming on such late notice."

"No problem Morgana. My family doesn't own a tack shop for nothing," the mocha skinned girl grins, her pearly whites look dazzling in the afternoon sun.

"Thank goodness. Do you want to see the horse?"

"Sure. It'll give me a good idea what you might need."

Morgana takes Gwen into the stables and to where Aithusa was kept. "This is Aithusa," Morgana beams, proudly displaying the white mare.

Immediately Gwen was drawn to the horse, "She's beautiful Morgana!" she compliments and instantly goes into 'action mode' her brother Elyan describes it.

Morgana watches Gwen run her hands through Aithusa's body expertly like how Merlin did before; analysing every muscle, random patches of darkened fur and all. Merlin too watches Gwen intensely, impressed at her skill and quick flicking eyes, taking every detail into account.

"She's a lovely horse Morgana. She doesn't seem too much like a jumper nor racer but I think Aithusa would make a fine dressage horse." Gwen kneels down and picks up Aithusa's front hoof, bending the fetlock. "See, look at her hooves, small and neat, perfect for those dainty side steps." She lets Aithusa put her hoof down but Gwen now runs her hand down the horse's foreleg, "Good strong forelegs with an elegant knee. So I reckon she should be perfect for dressage or at least a beginners training horse because she seems to have a very good temperament after me picking at her," Gwen smiles.

"Perfect!" exclaims Morgana.

"Why is that?" asks Gwen curiously.

"If you remember I can't even ride a horse."

Gwen takes a moment to remember her first meeting with Morgana at the tack shop. "Of course I remember now. So who would teach you?"

Morgana gives Gwen a meek look, "I was hoping you could teach me."

The curly haired girl looks astonished.

"I'll pay you of course," Morgana quickly adds.

After a minute Gwen gives her a wide smile, "I'll love too."

"Thank you so much," Morgana grins quickly grabs Gwen for a hug.

"Don't worry about paying me though. I just want to have another chance to hang out with horses.

Aithusa gives out whinny and Merlin smiles at how perfect everything comes together.

* * *

><p>For the next few weeks Gwen taught Morgana how to ride and look after Aithusa, gradually training the beautiful white mare. Gwen was surprised how quickly Morgana caught on, but that was due to the fact that Merlin was teaching her when Gwen wasn't around.<p>

The only thing that Morgana made Gwen swear by was not to tell Arthur or her father Uther. Gwen wasn't sure why, but she didn't mind having not met either relative therefore it didn't feel like she was doing anything terribly bad. It was one the few times her rebellious side came out. But these sessions were fun and Morgana and Gwen quickly became great friends.

Merlin on the other hand watched the sessions in content. It was good to see Morgana interact with another being, an alive being, other than him. He just didn't feel right with taking all her time.

Everything was perfect -except for Arthur Pendragon. Arthur for all his obliviousness knew Morgana was up to something. He wasn't sure what though. During the past few weeks he saw even less of Morgana than he did when they first came here. She would be around for breakfast and gone for the rest of the day until dinner. He rarely saw her for lunch, in fact he rarely saw her all summer vacation. He tried confronting her once about where she went during the day but that ended up nowhere.

_Arthur and Morgana were in the living room. He was watching the tennis and Morgana reading a book called Black Beauty. This was one of the few times the siblings were together on their own since Uther was at the Mercia Stables._

"_Hey Morgana," begins Arthur._

"_Yeah Arthur," she lifts her head from behind the book and he seems her thick rimmed reading glasses precariously balanced on the tip of her nose._

"_I hardly see you anymore," he states._

"_Well you are seeing me now."_

"_I mean during the day. You're gone from dawn till dusk."_

"_Well you aren't home most of the time too," she comments back._

"_What do you do that takes that long?"_

"_It's none of your business," Morgana quickly retorts._

_Arthur frowns at the evasion, "Do you have a boyfriend?"_

"_No." Morgana replies curtly, "I am not having this discussion with you anymore Arthur Pendragon," and she storms out of the room._

Arthur wakes up early today, before the crack of dawn, before Uther gets up and especially before Morgana gets up. He quickly gets ready, has breakfast and camps out behind the living room couch, out of sight waiting for Morgana.

Soon enough Morgana gets and gets ready. She does the same as him but her clothes appear different, they are not Morgana-ish. They look worn, and practical? Morgana takes her time eating breakfast until very loud car engine could be heard coming up the driveway. Then Morgana quickly shovels in the rest of her cereal, readjusts the red necker(handker?)chief on her wrist the seems to be her constant companion these days and rushes out of the house closing the door.

Arthur quickly and silently follows. He watches Morgana hop into the passenger seat of the pickup truck and they drive off. Arthur couldn't see the driver because Morgana obscures his view but he is now confident that Morgana has a boyfriend, who else would drive a car all the way here? But he notices that they don't drive down the driveway and out of the estate but around to the back of the house.

Arthur follows them around, but they were in a car which moves a lot faster than he does so it takes a while for him to catch up. Soon when the sun has fully risen beyond the horizon he could see the pickup truck parked in front of what seems to be a stable in their lands. When did they own a stable? How should he know anyway? He never really explored the property.

He walks towards the stables and enters through the big wooden doors to see Morgana saddling a pearly, white mare.

Morgana hears his footsteps and looks up at him. "Arthur!" she exclaims.

"Morgana where's this boyfriend of yours?" he demands.

"I don't have a boyfriend. And you followed me?"

Arthur ignores her comments, "Then who was it that took you to the stables? Cause I could see the pickup truck in the front of the stables. Since when did we have a stables and a horse anyway?" he muses.

"Since we moved here and it's _my _horse. Also I repeat I do not have a boyfriend."

"Ok Morgana's boyfriend you can come out hiding now! I promise not to kill you instantly!" he bellows out.

Then the door where the tools were kept opened and Arthur sees a mocha skinned girl, with brown curly hair and equally warm brown eyes come out in the cream jodhpurs, black knee high boots and warm jacket. She was the most beautiful girl he ever laid eyes on. He could see himself writing ballads, sonnets and forever serenading her.

But no, he just blurts out, "You're not a boy." Immediately his face reddens at the most stupid comment he has ever made in his life.

Gwen gives him a quizzical look, "Yes I am not a boy," she replies bemusedly and gives Morgana an odd look.

"Way to state the obvious Arthur, your idiocy and arrogance will be your downfall one day. Gwen meet my idiotic brother Arthur. Arthur this is Gwen, not my apparent _boyfriend_," she emphasises, "But my good friend who is teaching me to ride my horse Aithusa here," she pats the white mare.

"Uhhh sorry, about the earlier comment Gwen," he says nervously now definitely feeling like a total idiot.

But Gwen being the lovely person walks up to Arthur and holds her hand in front of him. Arthur takes her soft, dainty hands into his large hands and gives it a shake.

"Pleasure to meet the infamous Arthur Pendragon. I'm Guinevere Leondegrance but you can call me Gwen," she smiles brightly and Arthur swears the smile can outdo the brightness of the sun.

"Guinevere," he repeats softly, "Guinevere is beautiful name. Pleasure to meet you Guinevere Leondegrance I'm Arthur Pendragon and not the idiot Morgana claims me to be." He gives her his most charming smiles which causes her to blush a little.

Morgana watches her brother and friend interact with frown and already begins to connect the dots and looks at Merlin leaning against the wall. He gives her raised eyebrow, the both of them thinking the same thing.

Arthur Pendragon and Guinevere Leondegrance were love-struck.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note<em>

So I've finally managed to sneak in some Arwen here :D but again lacking in Mergana :|. As for all the lovely reviews I promised some teasers for what future stories I have in mind; just go to my profile and take a look at the poll I've got set up (it will be up only for 1 week and honestly I already typed up a chapter for one of them. You can guess which one ;P). Also I got exams coming up so another break -delay will come again...maybe I should type the entire story and hoard the chapters and the release them consecutively (which may be a while til the next update) instead of when I can. Which would you prefer?


	11. Dressage

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 11: Dressage**

"You're holding the reigns too tight Miss Pendragon. You need to loosen up," comments Merlin as he watches Morgana trying to trot in a neatl fashion on Aithusa.

Morgana loosens her grip on the reigns and tries to relax, willing Aithusa to continue trotting, lifting her legs high and landing back on the soft grass of the field.

"That's right Miss Pendragon, now one more lap."

She performs one more lap in a circle and then ends elegantly. She gets off the Aithusa and leads her to Merlin who is walking up to them.

"Wonderful ending Miss Pendragon, I do believe endings are one of your strengths but you still seem too nervous and forceful on Aithusa."

Morgana looks at her ghost-friend, his cobalt eyes seem to fill with enthusiasm when they train. "Well at least I'm doing something right," she grins as she enters the stables and begins taking the gear off Aithusa.

"You are doing very well considering that this is a paddock and not a proper sand filled arena you are training on," Merlin reassures her with a small smile.

They hear a familiar pickup car engine chortle its way down the property's infinite driveway. Morgana finishes Aithusa off and with Merlin heads outside to see Arthur opening the passenger door to let Gwen out. It was actually quite sweet to see Arthur's more sensitive side. Gwen hurries off to meet with Morgana in a bone crushing which she returns, but not so enthusiastically. Arthur trails behind at a more leisurely pace.

When the two girls finally break apart Morgana asks, "What's got you so excited Gwen?"

Gwen looks like she's burst from excitement. "I've entered you into the junior dressage competition at the Annual Summer Fair!" she exclaims.

Morgana's eyes widen, she is stunned. Gwen looks at her in that concerned and worried face that makes you feel like you just kicked a puppy.

"Aren't you excited?"

Morgana quickly shakes her head, "Do you really think I'm good enough to enter a competition in this place's biggest event?"

Morgana quickly glances at Arthur and Merlin. Arthur looks like he knows how she feels. In fact when he and Gwen went to the office he tried persuading Gwen not too. Merlin on the other hand looks excited as Gwen.

"You'll be fine Morgana. I mean I'll be here to train and help you. Here I even got the CD with the moves and steps Aithusa and yourself have to perform with the music," she smiles ad she rummages through her handbag for the CD.

Morgana thinks otherwise. Gwen doesn't realise that ever since she and Arthur started dating that she hasn't hung out with Morgana as often as she use too.

"Don't be worry Morgana," Gwen senses her unease, "I mean you only have another month here before the beginning of uni and I'm pretty sure you want to do something worthwhile and exciting right?"

A month? Morgana realises that she really does have a month until the end of summer vacation before she heads back to London, before she leaves Aithusa whom she'll need to find a groomer which Merlin would probably volunteer if he could. A month until Morgana leaves Merlin.

Morgana gathers her resolve and puts on a determined face, "Yes, let's give it our best shot."

Gwen cheers, Arthur her not so annoying brother smiles, whilst Merlin grins, his cheekbones looking extra prominent.

* * *

><p>Morgana spends the next week training rigorously. Whether if Gwen was there or not. She knows Gwen feels a little guilty for not being there sometimes but she has the shop to manage too. But at least Merlin was always there for her. Being a ghost he doesn't even need to sleep and all but he can when he wants too.<p>

Merlin however, cautions her time not overtrain so she doesn't injure Aithusa or herself. But the horse seems to have other ideas and appears to be overly energetic lately and looks like she enjoys the extra attention given to her.

One day whilst Morgana was practising on the grassy plain, trying to get Aithusa to get a clean transition from one leg yield to another she sees a new shiny pickup car driving down the driveway. Morgana tries to complete the manoeuvre, which was proving to be a little difficult since Aithusa was so full of energy and Morgana was a little unbalanced on the spongy grass (Merlin said it wasn't a proper arena to practise on) but gives up eventually. She opts to ride out to find out who is the visitor with Merlin quickly whooshing his way with them.

Morgana watches the driver park the car in the end of the driveway and open their door to get out. The person turns out to be Alvarr, than guy from Mercia Stables.

"Hey Morgana," he calls out when he spots her on a horse.

She gets off Aithusa and walks towards Alvarr leading the mare with her. "Hi Alvarr, how are you?" she greets.

"I'm pretty fine," he smiles in what she could only describe as dazzling. It proves to be a little infectious too.

She returns the smile, "That's nice. May I ask why you're here though? My father isn't at home. He should be at your stables at the moment."

Alvarr laughs, "That he is. Actually I just came back from the Leondegrance shop and overheard Gwen and Arthur talking about you riding a horse and entering the dressage competition at the fair. Is it true?"

Morgana nods, "Sure is."

"And I'll assume that fine mare you're holding is the horse you are entering with."

"Correct." Morgana isn't sure where Alvarr is trying to go with this conversation.

Alvarr moves to pet Aithusa who doesn't seem to mind the new person. But then again she is practically a wild horse that ended up following her home and doesn't care for anything but apples.

"What's her name?" he asks.

"Aithusa."

"Strange name."

"I think it's rather a lovely name," Morgana quickly retorts.

"Sorry. I meant no offense. It's just unusual that's all."

"Ok, apology accepted. So why are you here again Alvarr?"

Alvarr turns his head from Aithusa to look at Morgana clearly. "I was wondering if you wanted to train for your competition at the Mercia Stables since you don't have a proper arena here?" he offers.

Morgana is a bit surprised at the offer. It was too good to be true. But she really needed practise on a proper field. She looks at Merlin who gives her a shrug as if trying to tell her to do whatever she feels like.

"Actually I love to Alvarr," she smiles widely, "When can I come over?"

"Tomorrow, I can bring the trailer to take Aithusa over. You can watch Nero being trained too if you like."

She had totally forgotten about Nero, the Black Stallion that her father had invested in with Cenred.

"No problem. I shall see you tomorrow then."

"Cool, I'll meet you and the horse here at eight in the morning?"

"Sure I'll see you then."

Alvarr and gets into his car, says his goodbyes and drives off.

* * *

><p>Morgana and merlin are waiting in front of the stable with Aithusa and all her gear at the ungodly hour of eight in the morning. It used to be that at least for Morgana, but ever since she started training with Aithusa she somehow did manage to wake up at the crack of dawn. Merlin, on the other hand had not trouble at all. Not because he was ghost but it used to be his routine he never really got out of it.<p>

"Do you think he'll come?" asks Merlin.

"Of course, why wouldn't he?"

"I think he's a …." Merlin thinks for a moment, his hand scratching his chin, "I believe the word is a jerk these days?"

Morgana does a wonderful impression of raising an eyebrow like Merlin, "Why do you think that?" she asks curiously.

"I just got a funny feeling. And I know from firsthand experience to trust your instincts."

Morgana looks at him oddly before replying, "Well he was a bit pushy at first. I mean talk about personal space. But it is really nice of him to offer his riding arena for me to practise on."

It was then that Morgana and Merlin sees Alvarr's shiny pickupcar and horse trailer coming towards them. Alvarr comes to greet them (well Morgana and Aithusa only since Merlin is invisible) and helps convince Aithusa to get into the trailer with carrots and apples. She responds to the apples quickly and is easily bribed to get in.

The drive to Mercia Stables wasn't a long one, in time that is. But Merlin just has funny feelings from Alvarr, he laughs and smiles too much. He keeps on switching radio stations until he finds a song that he and Morgana can sing too and Merlin even though he may like the song too is treated to some bad karaoke. Merlin just decided that he wasn't in a good mood and not left out. Or so he told himself.

Training on the sand helped Morgana and Aithusa a lot. They were able the get a feel for the ground and the arena was the exact size that would be judged in the competition.

Much to Merlin's glee (even though he felt the most minute feeling of pity) Alvarr wasn't very good a dressage trainer, he was too impatient. Merlin consequently helped Morgana as much as he could. But now being in an area full of people moving between yards, stables and paddocks it was much harder. Luckily, Gwen and Arthur came often to assist Morgana in her training.

Even though Alvarr wasn't a very good trainer, he always found some time to come over and bring a drink or snack for Morgana and Aithusa, asking how it was going and complimenting her. Morgana realised soon enough that he wasn't a jerk and maybe Merlin's gut feeling might be wrong.

Overall her skill in the manoeuvres since coming to Mercia Stables has improved vastly.

* * *

><p>"Do you think I'm ready Gwen?" Morgana asks nervously<p>

"You'll be fine, just remember to have fun," Gwen replied in a motherly manner and then straigtens the braid. "Well now that's done, I'll leave that the on you on your own to relax. I'll meet you downstairs in the living room." Gwen finishes and leaves the room.

Merlin snickers and Morgana quickly sends an annoyed glance at him. Merlin feigns disgrace by putting his hand on his chest. "Miss Pendragon, please have some faith in yourself. I could only have so much faith in this airy fairy body of mind."

"But Merlin, I've been riding for two and a half months. What happens if I screw up?" she whines.

"We can say that you've tried your best and we will be really proud of you nonetheless. But I highly doubt. Anyway look at yourself in the mirror. You make a fine rider."

Morgana looks at her herself in the mirror and indeed she looked like a proper dressage rider, like those in the Olympics. She was wearing an emerald green vest, jet black tail coat, white jodphurs and shiny black riding boots. Morgana was so thankful for Gwen in assisting with the clothes and braiding Morgana's hair into one thick braid with matching green ribbons woven into. Morgana smiles a little.

"See Miss Pendragon nothing to worry, and now let us got meet up with the others."

The Festival was in full swing by the time they arrived. Fair rides with screaming teens, kids trying to win toys (or parents doing it for them), local produced displayed amongst other things. Morgana lead her Aithusa to the temporary stable to be kept safe there so she could hang out with Gwen, Arthur and Merlin (secretly) at the festival. It was all simply good fun except the part where she had to keep her attire as clean as possible.

Soon Morgana had to prepare for the competition and left the others to fetch Aithusa. She gave Aithusa a quick brush up before leaving to see the others at the viewing stands.

"Good luck Morgana," said Arthur.

"You go girl," from Gwen.

She grabs the pair of them in a massive hug.

"Good luck Morgana," she hears a deeper voice behind her which turned out to be Uther who for this entire time did not mention her 'rebellious-ness'. Now instead instead he wishes her luck in which Morgana hugs her father furiously.

"Good luck Morgana." She turns around and sees Alvarr flashing her a dazzling smile.

"Thanks Alvarr," she returns the smile.

"Aren't I going to get a hug too?" he gives her a pleading look in which Morgana relents and gives him one too.

She finally heads back to the stables. Afterward she goes back to collects Aithusa and waits for her turn.

When she is finally called Morgana gets on her horse and begins to exit the pen.

"Good luck Miss Pendragon," says Merlin.

Morgana looks at him and gives him a small nod and enters the arena.

Merlin whooshes to where the others are watching from. As Morgana begins the routine Merlin analyzes it carefully,proud that she is doing so well. He is calculating the points she has gains and loses too. But someone talking beside him is distracting him and his hears snippets of their conversation.

"You have beautiful eyes Enmyria."

"Umm thank you cutie," this Enmyria girl boldly replies.

"Hey do you want to come to the dance with me tonight?"

"Sure."

"Cool I'll meet you at eight under the ferris wheel?"

"No problems meet you then."

By that stage Merlin was sure he heard something like that before and realised it was Alvarr flirting with some buxom blonde girl and asking her on a date. Merlin ignores it quickly since it's wasn't worth his time and concentrated on Morgana finishing her routine.

Her ending was perfect and the judges gave her an 8.7, through highest score. She was definitely in the finals tomorrow.

Morgana comes around after putting Aithusa back in the stables and Gwen leaps at her.

"See I told you you'll be fine. You've made it to the finals!" she cheers.

"I know, can you believe it?" Morgana is astonished herself.

"Well I'm proud of you," congratulates Uther.

The Alvarr comes in joins and leads Morgana a little out of the way but still within range that Merlin doesn't get dragged along and says something to her that has Morgana grinning happily. Something that felt like he should've been eavesdropping in horror the as a perfect gentleman did not .

It was when they returned back to the Camelot stables that Merlin was able go finally congratulate Morgana for making it into the finals.

"Thanks Merlin," her smile is warm and bright as she closes the door for Aithusa's pen. "I was kind of wondering when you'll say that."

"Just when people aren't around so you won't look crazy Miss Pendragon," he jokes.

"Yeah about that, in an hour Alvarr is going to take me to the dance and I was thinking that I should leave your neckerchief here so we could get some privacy, you know. I hope that's alright with you Merlin."

Merlin frowns, not because he was being left behind but he was pretty sure the other girl Enmyria said yes to Alvarr too.

"What's wrong Merlin?"

"I don't think it's a good idea Miss Pendragon."

"Why?" she is surprised at his refusal.

Merlin repeats what he heard between Alvarr and the blonde and added, "And also you need to sleep well for the finals tomorrow."

Now it's Morgana's turn to frown. "How do I know this is not a way you are trying to keep me from dating Alvarr Merlin?"

Merlin is shocked and offended that she even considers that. "Excuse me Miss Pendragon I am just trying to look for your well being," he curtly replies.

Morgana narrows her eyes at him, "I think you're jealous Merlin. You have always disliked Alvarr." Before Merlin could reply she adds, "I think you might actually like me now. It's always the way isn't it. You want what you can't have. But I gave you a chance at the apple grove but you threw it away."

"Now that is preposterous Miss Pendragon. I think you should reconsider," Merlin growls a little.

"Well whatever you think I'm going anyway," she replies darkly and turns on her heel to exit the stables. She reaches the large doors and takes off the neckerchief on her wrist and chucks it on the floor before closing the door.

Merlin doesn't feel the tug when she gets out of range. He looks at the neckerchief and sees he can't move anywhere tonight.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note<em>

_Who thinks this is a little rushed? Because I feel that it's not fulfilling? You guys hate me don't you? Hopefully next update should make it all up. And thank you for all the lovely reviews; it makes my exam time more bearable (if you haven't noticed I tend to update more during exams T_T, not good for me but good for you). The poll on some still up on my profile too :)_


	12. The Dance and Merlin

_Dedicated to those battling/battled to Hurricane Sandy._

_I really want to get this story finished so another quick update, OMG! And a shout out to Cypriana for reading this in one go and pretty much reviewing every chapter.  
><em>

_Warning: mild swearing and mature themes_

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 12: The Dance and Merlin**

Arthur and Gwen were already gone when Morgana got back to the house to get ready for her date.

"You look great Morgana," complimented Alvarr sweetly when he arrived at the property.

She was a wearing a floral cotton dress, nothing too fancy. Morgana looked down and blushed lightly and tried to gauge his reaction through her thick, black eyelashes. He was wearing that charming grin again.

"Umm why thank you," she replies shyly. She looks at him and he is wearing a pair of jeans, a print t-shirt and the leather jacket he wore last time. "You don't look too bad yourself too."

"Thanks. Are you ready to go?"

"Sure."

They exit the house and Morgana locks the door and turns to go to the car. Alvarr has his arm wrapped around her waist and leads her to the passenger before opening the door for her.

"Thank you Alvarr," she says and then gets into the car.

"No problem beautiful," he winks before walking around to the driver's door.

The drive to town for the dance was like their usual drives to Mercia Stables with Alvarr doing all the talking and changing radio stations until a good song was being played. However, she felt different - she didn't feel Merlin's presence in the back seat. She reached for her wrist where the red silk neckerchief had been tied for a better part of the summer vacation and realised it wasn't there. Then she remembered their fight. Maybe she should apologise after the date but Morgana quickly shook that thought away. Merlin didn't seem to like Alvarr at all, maybe to the point where he would make lies up about him.

When they arrived at the fair it was still going on a full steam ahead. Alvarr quickly lead Morgana around to where the dancefloor (which really was the fair's outdoor disco in one of the paddocks) and well, danced. Morgana had been so isolated in this country town she forgot how it was like to be around so many people. Sure the music was a bit different and family friendly but it was a live band in comparison to a DJ remixing all the classics to some new mutilated but apparently trendy form in the clubs in London.

Alvarr was holding her waist, her hands and twirling her around. He had this permanent grin on his face, which though as cute as it looked made Morgana wonder if his cheeks were ever tired.

Whilst dancing she spots Gwen and Arthur on the dancefloor. In reality it was Gwen dancing since Arthur looked like a robot, the movements of his arms and legs were really stiff but luckily he does not have two left feet or else Gwen would've had stubbed toes within the first five minutes of dancing with the blond. Morgana gives Gwen a wave which she waves back enthusiastically. Arthur sees his girlfriend waving to someone and follows her line of sight and spots his sister with Alvarr and frowns, didn't she say she didn't have a boyfriend?

The night wore on but the party didn't seem to stop. Morgana was getting tired and Alvarr seemed to pick up on it.

"Hey lets grab a drink and sit down," he suggested.

Morgana was thankful for this godsend called a seat and Alvarr returned with two beers and placed the cool beverage in her hand.

Morgana took a sip, the drink was bitter yet refreshing. "Thanks." She looks up and sees Alvarr having downed half the glass already.

"No problems. You're really shy aren't you?"

Morgana is confused at the question. "Really? I've always thought I was the opposite."

Alvarr laughs, "Well you haven't spoken much at all tonight and all I've really heard was a load of thank yous."

Morgana scrunches her face before replying, "I think it's called being polite."

"Polite indeed. But where is that feisty girl I met at dinner some time ago?"

"Still here. But she only comes around if she doesn't like someone," she japes.

"Aww you didn't like me before? I'm offended," scoffs Alvarr.

"I like you now though," Morgana reassures him.

"Really. You like me enough that you don't mind me doing this." And as swiftly those words a spoken his mouth descends on Morgana's lips for a kiss.

It was not something she expected for a first date and she quickly breaks the kiss before it can deepen any further.

She is flustered, "I'm sorry; I'm not a first date and kiss kind of girl."

Alvarr looks disappointed and what appears to be irritation. "Sorry, maybe I was rushing things."

"Sorry," Morgana bites her bottom lip, now it feels awkward.

Then Alvarr pulls out his phone and takes a quick look at the screen. "Hey Morgana I need to quickly meet up with a friend. Is that alright with you? It'll only take five minutes max."

Morgana nods, "I'll be here when you come back, probably still trying to finish this beer," she smiles.

And she waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Half an hour passes and Morgana is getting worried. The party has started to wind down and she has long gone finished her beer. That's when she sees Gwen and Arthur walking towards her bench.

"Hey Morgana, what are you doing here by yourself?" asks Gwen.

"I'm waiting for Alvarr."

Both Gwen and Arthur give each other a knowing look. Arthur in particular asks Morgana concernedly, "How long have you been waiting here for him?"

She eyes her brother carefully, trying to guess what he is thinking before answering, "About half an hour."

The dating couple look at each other worriedly and Arthur then says, "We've spotted Alvarr with a stable girl, what was her name again Guinevere?"

"Enmyria," she gives promptly.

"With Enmyria ten minutes ago at the car park," he finishes.

Morgana is shocked. Any other time she would have made excuses for somebody's lateness but that was the same girl's name Merlin said Alvarr asked out. Immediately Morgana stands up and storms towards the car park, abandoning the other two but they quickly follow.

"I hope she doesn't hurt him too bad," states Gwen but not in a worried manner.

"I hope she breaks his balls," Arthur comments with glee.

Morgana locates his shiny new pickup car and sees it rocking vigorously. However, she is a mature woman and doesn't really give a damn. She bends down and finds a nice sized rock with a pointy edge and walks with determination to the car. She sees the two figures but ignores it and with the rock presses it hard against the shiny paint of the car and drags it along the entire outside of the car, making a terribly high pitch screeching sound.

She hears a car door open and sees Alvarr come out with is shirt off and a hickey forming on his neck. He sees the massive scratch on the entire length of the car and Morgana standing there with the rock.

"What did you do to my car you bitch?!" he exclaims.

At this stage the buxom blond Enmyria comes out too buttoning up her blouse, albeit very crookedly.

"Fuck You Alvarr!" she says coldly and quietly. She walks up to him and gives his face the biggest slap she has ever given before kneeing him between the legs.

She hears a cheer which ends suddenly. It was Arthur whooping before being reprimanded by Gwen. Morgana turns her back to Alvarr who has buckled to the ground and makes her way back to her brother and friend.

* * *

><p>The car drive home is a quiet one. Gwen and Arthur try comforting her but she ignores them. Soon as they got home she rushes to her room, tears forming in her eyes and she hides underneath the covers of her bed fully clothed. She hears the car drive down the driveway - Arthur is taking Gwen home too.<p>

Morgana tosses and turns in her bed, never actually getting to sleep. Then she sits up suddenly on her bed. She needs to apologise to Merlin. He was right all along about Alvarr. So she sneaks out of her room and to the stables, forgetting about putting a warm jacket on because the night is a bit chilly. Morgana opens the stable doors and flicks on the lights. She looks on the floor and the red neckerchief is still there. She picks it up and tries to find Merlin.

Merlin usually responds instantaneously when they are separated for those brief moments like when she is having a shower. But now he doesn't come towards her.

She walks to where Aithusa is sleeping and she sees Merlin sleeping for the first time. She knows he could sleep but he says he doesn't. Morgana just simply took Merlin's word for it and also the fact that she has never seen him sleep. But now she looks at him in the corner on a pile of hay looking so peaceful and calm. He appears different, somewhat.

It is then Morgana realises he isn't wearing his neckerchief. It is the first time she doesn't see him accompanied by his usual accessory wrapped around his neck. She could actually see his neck. The shape of it is long and elegant, almost aristocratic. It is a smooth and pale like his face but suddenly at the centre there is an angry red mark, like a burn or bruise that runs horizontally across his neck and it fades gradually as it reaches the upper lengths of his neck.

It is a wound of some sort.

Morgana unconsciously grips tighter to the neckerchief in her hand.

Merlin's eyelids fly open, a blazing blue gazing at her. He sees Morgana holding the neckerchief in a vice like grip and he brings his own hand to his neck and doesn't find his red neckerchief there.

"Morgana," he whispers.

**(And I really wanted it to end it here, but no :D)**

A breath gets caught in Morgana's throat. It is the first time he has actually calls her by her first name.

"What happened to you Merlin?" she gestures to his neck with a trembling hand forgetting the reason why she was here in the first place.

Merlin looks at her, seeing she is only wearing a thin cotton dress. He stands up and with a gold flash of his eyes a blanket soars from nowhere and lands in his hands. He walks up to her and wraps the blanket around her small frame.

"Silly Morgana, you'll catch your death if you don't keep warm," he reprimands lightly.

Another breath hitches again when he says her name. "What happened to you Merlin?" she whispers, her eyes glued to the angry line across his neck.

Merlin ignores the question, "Why are you here Morgana?" he leads her out of Aithusa's stall, it getting bit cramped in there.

Morgana remembers why she came here in the first place but sternly answers (with a slight tremor which Merlin pretends not to notice), "I won't tell my reason unless you tell me your story."

The ghost looks as her thoughtfully and sighs, "If you tell me your reason I promise to tell you my story."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he answers, his eyes an earnest blue.

They are sitting by a step outside the stables looking over at the pitch black fields with only the slight glimmers from the stars and a crescent moon as their source of light.

"It's alright Morgana," comforts Merlin.

"It's not alright Merlin. I just pushed you away after all the times you've warned me and everything," she reasons.

Merlin looks at her with a concerned expression, "Our feelings can get the best of us sometimes. It's nothing to be ashamed of." He leans over and wraps the blanket tighter around Morgana.

She instinctually leans into him with the blanket wrapped around her, he feels solid.

Merlin hugs her not caring if he is waif and fickle as the wind.

Morgana feels something like that resembles arms embracing her frame and she snuggles into her blanket furthermore. "Will you tell me your story now Merlin?"

Merlin lets go and looks into the night sky, "I did promise you that didn't I? I suppose you should get yourself settled comfortably because my story is a long one."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_Oh god I spotted a continuity error and I tried to cover it up. Can you guess what it was? This chapter was getting way too long so I split it into 3 maybe 4 parts. And yeah finally get to give Alvarr his just desserts! Please Review :)_


	13. A Ghost's Story Pt 1

Ahhh screw it I'm updating again cause you guys are awesome! This is the part that you guys will love or hate me…I'm scared :O. I split Merlin's story into 4 parts because it was getting close 9000 words.

Some housekeeping: Cypriana: Thanks, I was aiming for a Mergana friendship though I often crossed that fine line to something closer. And yeah Alvarr the Annoying is gone. Charis: Glad to hear that you love this story, at least its entertaining someone and getting rid of ridiculous plot bunnies out of my mind.

**Chapter 13: A Ghost's Story Pt 1**

**Sometime in the 1880's**

A fifteen year old Merlin walked through the lace iron wrought gates of the Camelot Estate with an expression of awe. The gardens were resplendent, there were flowers of every single colour of the rainbow and the grass was green as emeralds. Not that a poor farmboy like him knew what an emerald looked like.

Merlin walked from his home Ealdor, a town some many miles away and after such an arduous trek; his once clean shirt and brown jacket were not so clean (but not yet filthy) and he lost the cap his mother gave him down a stream twenty miles away. But at least he still had his neckerchief, his mother also gave him, and he loved it a great much more than the ridiculous hat.

"What are you looking at boy?" asked a bald dark skinned man. He was holding onto the leashes of four massive Great Danes.

"I'm Merlin Ambroisius Sir, from Ealdor." Merlin brought his hand up to shake.

The bald man looks at him again as trying if trying to weed out all his secrets. He didn't take Merlin's hand, "And why are you here young Merlin?"

Merlin was flustered, "Oh yes, I was recently hired to work at the Camelot Estate." Merlin dug into his rucksack hanging from his shoulder to fish out his letter of recommendation and gave it to…

"Sorry sir what is your name may I ask Sir?"

"James Aglain, Hound Master at Camelot Estate but call me Aglain since James is such a common name."

"Yes sir," Merlin replied quickly.

"Not sir either."

"Yes A-glain," Merlin acquiesced uncertainly.

The hound master quickly read through Merlin's letter whilst nodding. "Hmm I should take you to see the Master of the House then."

Before long Merlin was presented to the Master of the House, he was a middle age man who obviously has been through some tough times. He looked severe and stern.

"I think Merlin will do well as a stable boy don't you think Aglain?" asked Lord Camelot.

"Yes I think so Sire."

"Good good. Now why don't you show him his quarters whilst I have my son to deal with," he paused and the continued, "He has been rather reckless since his mother's death last year. I don't know what to do. I wish he was a bit more like his sister."

"Don't we all Sire?"

The Master chuckles and asks for one of the many servants that were employed in the house to bring the Young Master and the Young Lady to his study. Merlin learnt that ever since the death of the Master's wife, Lady Camelot, the Young Master was rash and brazen, causing trouble all over town and the Young Lady, well she was promoted to being Lady of the House, unofficially that is.

Aglain and Merlin exited the study and started heading back to the stables. The house was grandeur and filled with every luxury a man could have, crystal chandeliers, paintings, rare antiques from the East and thick woven Persian rugs that ran through the hallways. It was these rugs that Merlin tried to avoid soiling them with his dirty, travel worn boots. But because of him trying to do so, he ended up walking into somebody and landing on the floor.

"Ufff," groaned Merlin as his tail bone landed on the plush carpet. It wasn't as soft as it looked.

"Watch where you're going servant," a voice sneered.

Merlin looked up and saw a boy – no a man who was about the same age as him with blond hair and definitely a more muscular physique. He was obviously wealthy judging by the clothes he was wearing. Merlin was about to apologise when a sweet, innocent voice spoke before him.

"Ohh brother leave him alone. Surely he is new or do you have a brain of a cabbage? Also stop barging around like an elephant, no wonder the poor boy can't get around. "

"I do not barge around like an elephant. And how am I supposed to have a brain of a cabbage? They don't have any," he retorts loudly.

She laughs, it sounds like tinkling chimes, "And thus you are a cabbage head you no brainer. Let us go before father strings us up by the ankles."

And the brother and sister walk away leaving Merlin on the floor. Merlin gets up and takes a look at them closely. The siblings look nothing alike. The brother evidently older was blond and tanned whilst the sister, who appeared to be thirteen and just blossoming into womanhood; she had pale skin like ivory and tresses as dark like the midnight sky.

Aglain's head appears from the corner frowning at Merlin who hurriedly rushes after the Master of Hounds.

The stables were huge. Horses were everywhere; big, muscled horses. Back home in Ealdor his mother and him owned a small mare just enough to plough their small field and carry produce to the markets. But it wasn't enough, they needed the money. And here was Merlin getting his first job at the Camelot stables where it smelled of fresh hay (and alas horse dung). Merlin was simply amazed and a little disgusted.

"Hurry up and move Merlin, the Master of the Stables is a busy man. Stop staring cause your face may not end up looking like that for very long," orders Aglain.

Merlin meets Iseldir, the man in charge of the stables. He is getting on in years, but he is stern and fair. Over the weeks Merlin finds his routine in mucking up the horses, grooming them, taking them to hooved in town and learning to ride them since it was much easier than leading them by hand. It was a fair while before he realised he was looking after horses that were worth hundreds of pounds but Iseldir never complained or said anything. Not that Merlin cared, he liked horses and apparently they liked him.

Whom he didn't like was the Young Master. The Cabbage Head (the name stuck in Merlin's head after the Young Lady called him since that eventful meeting) was a real twat. He always barged into the stables loudly at some god-awful time, waking Merlin (who has a room at the back of the stables), spooking the horses and ordering Merlin to saddle up one for him to go hunting. And for that reason Aglain didn't like him too. Aglain would have to prepare the hunting hounds for the Cabbage Head. But there was one thing he could not like about him, he was a really good rider, apparently one of the best in the county.

One day Merlin was tending the garden since he finished all his stable chores. He was doing this as a favour for Mrs Mary, the plump grandmotherly woman who seems to fawn over him by sneaking him treats like apple crumble from the kitchen, not only did she work in the kitchens but in the gardens, and so he Merlin, being the nice lad he was offered to do her work.

So Merlin was pruning a few bushes, minding his own business until he heard a sound. At first he didn't think much of it until it grew louder. Merlin walked around the bush he was pruning and found in an alcove the Young Lady sitting there crying and a little bird on of her silk kerchiefs.

Merlin kneels down so he is at eye level with her and asks, "Are you alright My Lady?"

That is when she realises that someone was there and sees Merlin. "Don't call me My Lady! That's my mother's title not mine!"

He is a stunned at her furious retort and decides to tackle the situation in another way. He takes off his lovingly worn yet cared for neckerchief and hands it to her, "Here Little Miss for your tears."

She looks at him in a cold analytical manner before she snatches the neckerchief and wipes her tears away and blowing her nose on it (that's going to need washing Merlin thinks).

"The bird has a broken wing Little Miss," he notes.

"You think I don't know that!" She draws herself at her full height as if trying to prove that she isn't little. It turns out they are about the same height; she is only shorter than him by half an inch. "One of brother's stupid dogs brought it back and I rescued it," she says proudly and then sullenly adds, "But I can't fix its wing."

Merlin gently picks the bird up in the silk kerchief and cradles it in the palm of his hand and with his free hand stretches the broken wing to see the damage.

She looks at him warily and after a moment Merlin says, "It's a clean break, it should heal in a week or two if a splint and some tender loving care are given to her."

Her eyes widen in delight, "Would you do that for me uhhh sorry I didn't get your name?"

"Merlin Little Miss," he smiles gently.

"Would you look after Birdy for me Merlin please, I'll help and everything," she practically begs as well he finds out that the bird is named Birdy and it appears that she doesn't mind being called Little Miss.

"Of course Little Miss. You can come visit me in the stables anytime you want."

A warm smile graces her lips.

For the next two weeks Merlin takes care of Birdy as well as doing his chores. Naturally he thinks the Little Miss won't visit him since he's just a stable hand but she does visit him. In fact she comes by the stables nearly everyday. Not only does she just visit him and see how Birdy is healing but she somehow found out that he likes apple crumble and sneaks some for him. It turns out they both don't like hunting very much, though initially Little Miss disagreed.

"I just don't see how it's a sport," whines Merlin as he is grooming Little Miss' mare Duchess.

She often watches him work whilst sitting on a seat but she stands out like a sore thumb in the stables, especially if she's isn't in her riding clothes. She is wearing lilac dress today, with lace gloves and her hair was braided in an intricate style.

"Well it's what the gentry do to catch food is it not?" she counters.

"But that's why we have farms. How can it be a sport when one side has guns and a knives whilst the other nothing? That's how poor Birdy got hurt in the first place."

She nods. But she is at least glad that Birdy's wing is all healed. She and Merlin released the bird back into the forest behind the lake the other week.

"True. I see your point. Well then I don't like hunting too."

Merlin turns from Duchess and smiles brightly.

One late summer morning all the employees are gathered at the courtyard to by the fountain to farewell the Young Lady. She was heading for boarding school in London to be educated in the ways of a high society woman. She says her goodbyes to her family which was only her father and brother and waves to the servants before heading into the carriage with her maid and leaving. Somehow amongst that Merlin thought that she waved at him for a little bit longer.

Merlin didn't see her for another four years.

* * *

><p><strong>To Be Continued…<strong>

_Author's Notes_

_Kind of filler-ish. So what do you think of Merlin's younger days so far? A tad girlish as Arthur would say it? ;) Please Review.  
><em>


	14. A Ghost's Story Pt 2

_Wow, I was surprised that you awesome guys welcomed the previous chapter with open arms. I'm still worried that I'll alienate everyone with Part 2. __**Warning: Sexual references **_

**My Ghost Named Merlin **

**Chapter 14: A Ghost's Story Pt 2**

In those four years Merlin got promoted. Though not yet a Stable Master but a trainer for the Camelot racing horses, the pure thoroughbreds. Amidst his goofy look Iseldir saw something in Merlin and took him under his wing where he flourished. Meanwhile it turned out Cabbage Head isn't that bad of a person and they formed a tentative friendship.

And then the Young Lady returns from London. On the day of her arrival, Merlin wasn't at the Estate. He was in town getting Duchess re-shoed at the Will & Sons Forge, but when he returns to the stables he sees a strange beautiful woman talking to Iseldir. She has a lovely body with long dark hair that runs in waves, skin like milk and eyes that are more like pools where poets would forever try to describe and never get there.

Merlin gets off the horse and looks at her curiously and she turns around after Iseldir gestures to him. She gives him the same look he was giving her before simultaneously a smile spreads across their faces. She sprints towards him (which is nothing short of miraculous considering the many layers of lace, her heels and corset she is wearing) and embraces him tightly.

"Merlin," she greets into his chest and he easily picks her up in twirls her around.

It was then that he realised that how they were behaving was extremely inappropriate. She had seemed to forget etiquette altogether.

"How are you Little Miss? It's been so long? When did you arrive back home?" he bombards her with questions as he puts her down a decent distance away from him.

She ignores his questions and gives him another hug which he tries to end quickly for the sake of everyone else in the stable looking at him in an odd manner.

Then she answers, "I arrived about five hours ago and I agree it's been so long. Look at you now. You tower over me Merlin."

Indeed he was a lot taller than her, she only reaches his chest now.

"It turns out I was one of those late growers. But you know, slow and steady wins the race," he grins.

She punches him playfully, all sense of manners discarded out the window. He laughs and he rubs his arm, pretending to be hurt. Little Miss frowns and pouts at his response.

"Well you have grown more lovely Little Miss. You have blossomed into a beautiful flower," he compliments.

Immediately colour begins to rise on her cheeks, staining them.

"Well aren't you a lofty courtier?" she japes in hope that he doesn't realise the reaction he caused.

"Oh I wish Little Miss," Merlin replies in a sing song voice as he leads Duchess to her stall and she follows, "But I am just a stable boy."

"That is not what Iseldir tells me."

"Iseldir says whatever he likes, the devious scoundrel knows how to knock his stable boys into shape," he winks at her and the closes the door of Duchess' stall. "Is there anything you want from the stables Little Miss?"

She looks down and flutters her eyelashes. Merlin has never realised how thick and long her eyelashes were and how wonderfully they frame her eyes.

"I was hoping if you could accompany me on a walk around the lake and apple grove like how we used to when we were younger?" she request shyly.

"Of course, anything for Little Miss," Merlin replies gently and offers his arm to her in which she takes daintily.

Like that they remained as good friends. But deep down inside Merlin felt something blossom within him which he stamped down immediately.

* * *

><p>A courier comes to Merlin one late afternoon in the stables after everyone has left. The courier hands him a letter. Merlin thanks him and looks at the address; it is from home in Ealdor. He opens it eagerly hoping it is from his mother whom he hasn't seen for some many months and reads the letter. His forehead bunches together as a frown is formed. He quickly rereads it again and tears start falling from his eyes and the letter has slipped through his fingers.<p>

The Young Lady arrives from her ride on Duchess back to the stables to see Merlin crying. She gets off her horse and rushes to him asking what is wrong. He doesn't reply and she spots the letter on the floor and reads it. Merlin's mother has passed away from pneumonia.

She immediately embraces Merlin trying to comfort him in any way she could. Merlin holds her tightly not ever wanting to let go.

He makes the trip home to Ealdor to finalise everything. Her father does not allow her to go the funeral. But Merlin says it's alright, Ealdor is quite a distance away. When he comes back he is tugging a horse with him much to her surprise. It's a beautiful white colt.

She is there when he asks her father if he could find a place for it in the Camelot Stables until he could sell it.

"I cannot Merlin. Iseldir says our stables are getting full," he replies.

Merlin knows that is true but there is still some room, he is desperate.

"Please Sire, just for the night until I take it to market tomorrow. Or maybe you could buy the colt?"

"And why would I want a two year old show pony. I own race horses Merlin."

That is when she intervenes, "I want it Father, it is such a pretty horse. Could I please have it?" she flutters her eyelashes and gives him her best pleading face.

Her father relents and he buys the horse off Merlin.

In the stables Merlin is grooming the horse until it is lustrous as a pearl.

"Do you have a name for him Merlin?" she asks.

"I thought because it is your horse now you should name him?"

She thinks for a moment, "Aithusa. His name is Aithusa."

"What kind of name is Aithusa?"

"I read it somewhere, it means the light of the sun and look at how brightly he shines."

Merlin lips curve upwards, the horse is Aithusa.

* * *

><p>Somehow Merlin ends up training Aithusa to become a race horse and she always comes to visit to see him train. Always there to give him apple crumble and apples to Aithusa. Always there smiling with her delicate, pink lips.<p>

Merlin feels like he doesn't do enough in return so he begins giving her small things like flowers, and then a drawing of Aithusa.

She gives him a red silk neckerchief with a little M she embroidered and an eagle for his namesake.

Merlin feels like it's too grand of a gift for a stable boy like him. He tells her that on one of their walks around the lake that she should stop giving him gifts, that he doesn't deserve her generosity, that may be they should stop taking these walks alone. He feels the eyes of Iseldir, Aglain and the Cabbage Head on his back sometimes. He knows that a young woman her age should have a chaperone and it is indecent for her to walk with a young man like him alone.

"You are a silly boy Merlin," she replies with a laugh.

"I'm serious. It is not proper."

"I do not care what is proper."

"You mightn't, but I care for you and your reputation. And for you to be seen with me, a stable hand, it's a salacious tale for the fishwives to tell at market."

"Well I care for you and who cares about my silly reputation. I am always the Lady Camelot to them, they never see the real me, only you see me as _Little Miss_," she emphasises his nickname for her.

Before Merlin could reply she stands on her tippy toes and presses a chaste kiss on his lips. It is soft and warm on his lips, she tastes like apple cider (which a woman of her standing should not be drinking) and of vanilla. He doesn't have the heart to break the kiss and instead deepens it, snaking an arm around her delicate waist to hold her closely and his free hand lingering at the base of her neck. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down and kisses him more passionately.

By some blessing from God they manage to keep the relationship a secret.

Merlin was right. She began to have a chaperone everywhere she went and it was getting harder to sneak kisses and something Merlin would define as a tryst. Sometimes she would get overexcited and they would be nearly caught but he promised her that he would not deflower her, that it wasn't right before marriage. But she is a little more defiant and scoffs at him and upped her game in an attempt to persuade him. However Merlin, much to her dismay was a perfect gentleman.

It is winter and the snow falls lightly outside the stables, blanketing the fields in a coverlet of white.

"I'm getting sent to finishing school Merlin," she says to him as he is finishing the last chore (placing fresh hay in the stalls) of the day before heading off.

She has managed to sneak away from her chaperone to go see him in the stables at this inappropriate hour.

Merlin sprinkles the last of the hay before looking up at her. "For how long?"

"One, maybe two years."

Merlin nods slowly, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I will be of marrying age when I come back. I hear father has suitors lined up for me already," she quickly adds tears are threatening to tumble down her face.

Merlin walks to her and gathers her in his arms holding her tightly and feeling the tears seep through his coarse, cotton shirt. She hugs him even tighter as if clinging for dear life, so much so that they stumble back into the newly cleaned stall. She reaches for his face and kisses him hungrily and Merlin responds gently but it becomes just as hungry as hers.

"I - do-not- want to marry – anyone- but you Merlin," she mumbles into his mouth as their lips continue to find each other.

"Neither do I want you to marry anyone else," he groans into her soft pouty lips as her hands run through his hair and then begin to trail to the hem of his shirt where she touches the bare skin of his tight abdominal muscles.

Merlin stops suddenly, pulling them apart. He tries to regain his breath and looks at her trying to do the same. Her lips a swollen to a strawberry red from their kisses but she seems disappointed.

"We can't go any further, it is not right," he states after what feels like an eternity.

"Why do you insist on being the girl in the relationship?" she pouts and quivers in mild annoyance. It makes her soft waves of dark hair bounce lightly. She looks adorable and divine to Merlin.

"There must be one sensible person in every relationship. In the world we live in it is proper to wait until marriage."

"Well I do not like sensible or proper. I cannot wait that long. I want it to be you Merlin," she pleads; her eyes are wide with hope, glistening from the previously shed tears.

Merlin looks at her carefully, admiring not only her physical beauty that would make the Greek goddess of Love Aphrodite look like a hag but also the her beautiful personality, her soul. She is even more mightier and heavenly than angels. Then he takes off his neckerchief, the one she gave him, and bends on one knee, "Marry me then. I don't have lands, I don't have much money, I do not even have a ring for you. I know it's not much. But all I can give you is my heart Little Miss."

His eyes are full of love and so much passion that all she could reply was, "Yes," breathlessly.

And he pulls her for another kiss and ties the silk neckerchief on her left wrist. They continue kissing only pausing to tug off Merlin's shirt. Merlin pushes off her jacket and begins to fiddle with the waistband of her skirt. Their clothes fall like the winter snowflakes outside as they unite in this long awaited moment of love.

In the spring where the sun is shining and the flowers are beginning to bloom she leaves for finishing school. For Merlin it is as if winter has come again.

**To Be Continued…**

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_Yes I am a sap. Now let me hide underneath my blankets in shame from the sappiness of it all. _


	15. A Ghost's Story Pt 3

_Speedy update since it keeps distracting me. Good luck to you guys.  
><em>

_A few of you asked me if I could give out the names of the Camelot family or if Little Miss was Morgana. My answer to this is, I don't even know the names. I thought it would be best to have an open interpretation of the characters. So, you can see/imagine/visualise them however you like.  
><em>

_The chapter of truth: how Merlin died. This is the decider between me being loved or hated. __**Warning: Mature themes and if you are worried about the mature themes read the words in the asterisks backwards *edicius = retcarahc htaed*.**_

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 15: A Ghost's Story Pt 3**

A year goes by. In that time they send letters to each other. Merlin spends a better part of his nights just rereading the letters from his sweetheart or better yet, fiancée. One of those letters came with a red silk neckerchief exactly like the one he gave to her. It comes with a note saying that he should always have something from her with him. He picks the neckerchief up and ties it reverently around his neck.

Merlin is actually doing very well. Aithusa actually turns out to be a fine racing stallion for a three year old, and has won many races so far. He has won enough that Merlin has become some sort of distinguished gentleman in a course of a year. He has finally moved out of the room in the stables and into his own house not so far from the Estate. Merlin still works for the Camelot Family but as a senior trainer at the tender age of twenty-three. Now he feels it in himself that he has a chance to marry her rightfully.

But the dream has to end eventually, doesn't it?

The Master, Lord Camelot had died in the night from a swift fever, and now Cabbage Head is suddenly the Master of the House. Merlin offers to pick up the Little Miss (and now Lady Camelot until the Master marries) from the train station even though he is no longer a stable hand, or anything else of that rank. He feels that he should be there to support her through this time of grieving.

As Merlin takes the carriage through the English countryside he sees the sky darken and clouds thicken, a storm may be brewing he thinks. He stations the carriage in front of the train station and waits for the locomotive carrying his beloved to arrive. It is near evening when the desired train arrives and the thick smoke that plumes from the train is just a tad shade darker than the clouds up above.

Merlin sees her before she sees him. She is dressed entirely in black, the colour of mourning, contrasting with her pale skin. Her maid is with her and is holding the luggage. He weaves through the throng of other passengers to meet them.

"My Lady," he nods, "You have my deepest condolences for the passing of your father," he says gravely, his face disheartened yet passive.

He watches her expression morph slowly from ice cold as if trying to block everything away, and then it melts, contorting into one full of pain and grief. Tears flow freely down her cheeks like a river runs under a bridge, sobs wrack through her heaving body, the rhythm of a galloping horse.

For now, Merlin doesn't care about secrecy, he doesn't care that Sarah her maid is watching them in shock. He embraces her unreservedly, engulfing her quivering frame in hid arms, and rubs soothing circles on her back as he kisses the top of her head. It reminds him of when his own mother died and she was there for him. She pulls from the embrace eventually and he notices that the sky is darkening rapidly.

"I'm sorry Merlin," she says in a hoarse voice, hoarse from crying so much.

"No need to be sorry for anything Little Miss, let's take you to the carriage before you catch a chill." Carefully avoiding the word death, he collects the luggage from Sarah who is still stunned.

"Miss Sarah," he nods and begins to lead them to the carriage.

At the carriage Merlin opens the door for the two women.

"Ladies," he encourages.

Sarah offers her mistress to go first, but she refuses and badgers Sarah to go in first who obeys in the end.

Little Miss turns to Merlin and says quietly, as if she feels guilty, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." He swiftly kisses her on the lips, "But I love you even more." He picks her up, much to her surprise and puts her in a carriage like one would do to a child.

"I love you too."

Merlin flashes her a small smile and grins at Sarah's bamboozled expression. He closes the door and loads the luggage before taking the reins of the horses.

The heavens finally decide to open, rain began to pour and the wind howl. The journey home was one in the dark, but at least it was bearable. Only when the wind started lashing and rain started falling down in sheets it began to get dangerous. Merlin was getting soaked to the bone and his vision was fading drastically. He had to stop and tell them that they had to turn back and stay at a hotel, it was too dangerous to go any further.

"No, I must be there on time for my father's funeral," she protests.

"But my Lady, the roads are muddy and unstable we could hit a rock or anything. The lightning and thunder frightens the horses as well," he tries to convince her.

"No I must," she pleads.

"My Lady, we must turn back. Merlin is right. The roads aren't safe in this weather. We will have to wait for the storm to wear itself out," reasons Sarah.

"We don't know when it will end. No, I will be there for my father's funeral," she tenaciously replies. Little Miss is a stubborn lady and won't be badgered like a donkey from her stance (albeit something much more gracious than a donkey Merlin thinks). Merlin sees her playing with something on her left wrist, it is the ring, the neckerchief she gave him and he gave back with his heart and love in it too.

"If that is what Little Miss desires, I will obey, but please keep warm and keep away from the edges. It may get a little bumpy." Merlin closes the door and heads back to his seat and up turns the collar of his jacket to keep the rain and wind from his neck but especially the neckerchief before he commands the horses to go.

The ride continues to be uneven, the carriage occasionally jolting and sliding, but it is something that Merlin could handle. The rain steadily falls heavier and the winds grows stronger. Suddenly a crash of thunder and a torrent of lightning split the skies in the pitch darkness. It freaks the horses and sends them into a panic, and they bolt down the mud filled road, dragging the carriage haphazardly with them. Merlin tries to rein them in, tries to get them in control again but fear is evident in their eyes, the whites are clearly seen. They keep going, the pounding of hooves are like the gunshots fired from Masters hunting trip when they spot a fox…and then Merlin sees it. A sharp turn; a turn by some sturdy rowan trees so old that their branches and roots are a gnarled twisted abyss of wood.

He pulls on their reins tighter, no longer caring if the bit is painfully driven into beasts' tongues and gums. The booms of thunder, the hooves pounding, the howling wind is so great that he can't hear the screams from the women inside. The horses finally slow down, obeying the command of the reins but the carriage was going too fast and it does not. The wheels can't get a grip in the mud and it slides into the twisted rowans. The last thing Merlin sees is the splintering of bark. And for some odd heart wrenching moment it is silent; the thunder no longer booms, the wind no longer howls, the horses are muted and the cacophony of leaves fall still. All he hears, the last sound he hears are the screams of Little Miss.

* * *

><p>Merlin opens his eyes slowly, everything is a blur. He blinks several times before he sees Mary, Iseldir and the Master Cabbage Head sitting at the end of the bed. He tries to get up. They rush towards him but a heaviness and pain fills his head and body, so he lies back down.<p>

"Easy Merlin, you've been unconscious for several days," says the Cabbage Head.

Several days. He had been unconscious for several days. What?!

Merlin bolts right back up, ignoring the pain that is searing through the left side of his body like fire eating the logs on a Christmas day hearth.

"How is the Lady?" he asks desperately, his voice raspy from several days of not being used and coming from a badly damaged body. He takes great gulps of air from the sudden speech he performs.

Mary rushes to him and puts a glass of water to his lips which he gulps down thirstily before settling back down in bed.

The Cabbage Head ignores his question, "How do you feel Merlin?"

"My left side feels as if I got trampled over by a horse but beside that alright," he replies, easily distracted in his weakened state.

"That's good, you are lucky to survive Merlin with only some flesh wounds, severe bruising and a couple of broken ribs and your left leg is broken too."

"Survive Sire?"

"What do you remember Merlin?" asks Iseldir his expression etched with concern.

Merlin thinks for a moment, "Picking up the Lady and Sarah from the train station and taking the road back to the Estate."

"Nothing more Merlin?" pushes Aglain.

He ponders and then it hits him; the panicked horses, the slippery road, the torrential rains, the flashes of lightning and the screams of the women inside the carriage before darkness. "How is the Lady Camelot and Sarah?" he asks.

"Sarah is in another room recovering. Both her legs are fractured but they will heal in time," answers Mary.

Merlin sighs in relief (sort of) and realises she didn't answer where Little Miss is. "How is the Lady Camelot?"

The three people look at each other in a worried manner, nodding and shaking their heads.

"How is the Lady Camelot?" he repeats frantically, a wild look begins to take form in his eyes.

None of his visitors look up to him to answer.

"How is the Lady Camelot faring?!" Merlin practically yells and begins to cough up blood from internal bleeding. Aglain and Mary rush to aid him until he stops.

Merlin looks up the Master of the House, tears are streaming down his face. Merlin has never seen him in all the years he has known him except once, when his father died.

"No." Merlin shakes his head in denial.

The Cabbage Head's expression alters into one of grief.

"No," Merlin repeats, refusing to believe, tears are beginning to fall.

The Master nods, tears splatter across the sheets.

"No!" tears are cascading down his high cheek bones, flowing their way through the contours and down Merlin's face, their saltiness permeating his lips.

It wasn't the Master too confirm it, but Iseldir, "Merlin, the Lady Camelot died in the crash."

Merlin's mind and heart goes into a blank oblivion full of pain.

* * *

><p>It is some many months until Merlin's body heals. His heart however, is fractured; splintered like the remains of the carriage he saw them bring back, dragging it as he watches from the window of his room.<p>

He waits for the Master to regain his senses and come barging in to cut off his head because of the death of his sister, but it never comes. He waits for Sarah to tell him of Merlin's secret relationship with her and his head to be gone again, but it never comes. The Master visits him to see how he is recovering, but all Merlin does is apologise which the Master never responds, instead he leaves the room quickly. Merlin visits Sarah sometimes with his crutches to apologise furiously. She tells him that she forgives him and to look after himself, but he still returns to beg for forgiveness again. Now, she doesn't even let him in because of his self pity.

Soon Merlin is able to walk; he has a servant boy named Mordred that follows him around everywhere, to make sure he is alright. Merlin tries to persuade the boy to go, but he is a determined lad. Mordred stays with Merlin for hours as he sits by her grave nearly everyday. Sooner or later the Master bans Merlin from visiting the cemetery, stating that it is not good for his health.

Merlin finds some semblance of comfort in the stables, but alas everything reminds him of her. A seat she sat on, her favourite saddle, the stall where they first made love in! Aithusa was a living thing that reminded Merlin of her.

One evening he was alone in the stables (escaping from Mordred at last) grooming Aithusa and braiding the stallion's mane. He looks at the beast's head and finds some sort of morbid fascination with the rope that ties the stallion to the post. He stops braiding to touch the rope, it was made from coarse hemp, strong and sturdy enough that it had the ability to keep a four hundred kilogram horse from bolting off.

The lamp flickers, probably running out of oil but it casts menacing shadows across the stables reaching high into the rafters on the stables where the beams were joined in a repetitive, mechanical manner. It was a simple and effective way to keep the building up.

Merlin puts Aithusa back into his stall and took some spare rope, its coarseness created an interesting friction on the callouses of his hands. He climbs up to the top of the stables. Merlin rarely ever goes to the second level anymore. He used to as a stable hand to hide from Iseldir to take a nap or it was where him and Little Miss went for another of their trysts. But now, it is just a place where spare hay is stored.

Merlin carefully makes a noose, his mind is blank of any pain, just thinking of the job at hand, the possibility it may reveal. He climbs on the ledge and throws the rope across a beam and ties it, pulling it to make sure it's sturdy. He takes of his neckerchief and puts his head through the loop before tying the red material around his neck and the rope. He looks down at the stables, seeing flashes of her everywhere he looks. He puts the neckerchief to his nose and smells it, he swears he smells _her, _and his mind goes blank except for one thing.

_Little Miss. _

And he steps off the ledge.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_There is still a Part 4 but we get to see Morgana's reaction first. But who saw that coming? I thought it was pretty obvious, and morbid (me and my sicko mind). Please don't kill me but review/comment instead. I would love to have feedback on this one. Also I won't be able to update in a while (2-3 weeks unless I happen to be a very good mood or find time). I have to concentrate on my exams and then I'm going to a popculture convention interstate, gonna see Tom Hoppers and Tom Felton :D.  
><em>


	16. A Ghost's Story Pt4 & Morgana's Reaction

_Hey guys I'm back! Exams are finished, woot! But hey omg met Tom Hopper (Sir Percival) at the convention I went to. The guy is a giant! Really lovely guy who likes LOTR and Assassin's Creed, so therefore in my books, he is awesome. Saw all these other famous people but the best panel was the Futurama panel with the guys who voice Bender and Fry, it was hilarious. _

_Without further ado I present….._

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Chapter 16: A Ghost's Story Pt 4 and Morgana's Reaction**

Morgana was shocked. Actually there had to be a better word to describe how she was feeling, but nothing came to mind. No word in any dictionary, much less any language could fully describe her reaction to Merlin's story – his death.

She felt something wet slide down her face – a glistening tear, which soon became a trail of tears.

"Please don't cry Morgana," pleaded Merlin softly. He looked at her glassy, green eyes, like that of lush water plants that lazily drift in a bubbling brook.

Morgana tried to quickly wipe the tears away from her eyes, yet they still flowed. She regained her voice back somehow though, "Merlin-"

But the ghost quickly cut her off by placing a single finger to his lips. With that same finger he gently wiped a tear off her cheek. The tear was like a crystal, a diamond on the tip of his finger. A feeling, a tingling was growing at from his fingertips and the far ends of his toes. He felt as if he was almost alive...and cursed to the end of time in this form. Yet, at the same time he felt lighter, as if a burden that was placed on his shoulders finally decided to leave and disappear. It was then he knew that the story must continue.

That his story must be told.

* * *

><p><strong>A Ghost's Story<strong>

* * *

><p>Merlin fluttered his eyes open. He was lying flat on hard, wooden floorboards. He pushed himself up to stand. He felt no pain which was odd because he swore he would've been sent to hell as a result of what he did. Of what he did to Little Miss.<p>

The thought of her sent a searing pain to his heart, reopening the wounds. Wounds that are not visible to the naked eye.

He saw a table with detailed flowers carved in the wood and various curios made of ivory and fine china placed on it. There was also a luxuriantly, lush four poster bed accompanied with silk sheets and a feather down mattress when he pressed the sheets. He spotted a gold gilded mirror in the corner and the reflection shown in it was of the beautiful room, but not his reflection. That was odd.

The thought quickly disappeared from his mind because Merlin was still trying to figure out where he was. He wasn't entirely sure, but wherever he was, it definitely wasn't hell.

It definitely wasn't heaven either. Heaven should feel alive and warm (that's what he believed it to be). Yet this room he found himself in, though richly decorated and radiating wealth seemed dull and lifeless. As if whatever former life it had faded. The edges of the bed where the sheets hung had a clear crease on it, showing that it had been hanging in that position for a while and the mirror had a thin layer of film, obscuring what would have been a perfect reflection. The life that was once here was long gone.

Merlin then spotted an item amongst the various things on the table; it was a neckerchief in its scarlet glory. Instinctively his hand reached for his neck and he felt his own neckerchief on his neck. The one Little Miss sent to him whilst she was at finishing school.

He untied it and removed it from his neck, but as he did that his felt a ridge along his neck. Actually, it was more akin to an indent that went horizontally across his neck and then started to move upwards when it reached the sides. He naturally looked up to see his reflection in the mirror but there was none there. He decided to prod the ridge a little harder and it sent a shot of pain through his body, he felt as if he couldn't breathe. He was being asphyxiated.

Merlin slammed his hands onto the table gripping the edge of it until his knuckles turned a ghastly white in attempt to numb out the pain. His right hand still clutched his neckerchief which rested against the similar neckerchief on the table.

That neckerchief was his neckerchief too.

The one he gave to Little Miss when he proposed to her in the stables. It was bright red, still with its silky sheen but a little worn. Nevertheless, it showed the signs of being lovingly cared for.

Just as Merlin reached for the neckerchief the bedroom door crashed open and Mary with Iseldir entering into the room.

Merlin yelped, "I'm so sorry I was- ", he stopped suddenly, realising that Mary and Iseldir were not paying attention to him.

Instead they were searching the table frantically for something. Iseldir was quickly combing through the random assortment of Little Miss' belongings whilst Mary was fishing through the drawers. Merlin sees that they ignore him, only focusing on their task.

"Miss Sarah, Iseldir?" he speaks out.

But the duo continue to ignore him. He waves a hand in front of Iseldir's face but he doesn't even bat an eye. Instead he calls out, "What does it look like again Mary?"

"A red piece of silk with some embroidery," she replies before striding next to Iseldir to search through the nit-bits.

Lastly he decides to shake his mentor into realisation but as soon as he about to touch Iseldir's shoulders his hand goes through his body, as if Merlin is made of nothing and has dematerialised. He gasps at the discovery. What has happened to him?

"Found it," exclaims Mary before grabbing the neckerchief, "It is the same one you see Iseldir."

Iseldir glances at it quickly, "I'm not sure. We have to bring it to the Master and Sarah immediately to confirm it."

Mary was turns around to exit the room and her eyes widen for a split second, gaping at Merlin as if she can finally see him. But before she can voice anything Iseldir snatches the neckerchief from her and shoves it in his breast pocket before exiting the room. He calls for Mary which stuns her out of her paralysis and quickly follows, only after she takes one hard yet frighten look around the room.

Merlin decides to follow the duo down the hallways towards the Master's study. He ties his neckerchief around his neck, hiding the horizontal line and listens to their conversation.

Iseldir looks at Mary, her face was white unlike her flushed self only minutes ago. "Are you feeling unwell Mary?"

She does not answer.

"Are you alright? You look like you seen a ghost?"

Mary freezes in the middle of the hallway and thus Merlin does too. She looks up to Iseldir and whispers, "I thought I saw _him _in the Lady's room."

Iseldir frowns before replying, "Don't be silly Mary. Ghosts don't exist. He doesn't have a reason to stay on the earth hence his _departure_," he carefully words.

"But that's just it Iseldir. Suicide is illegal, it's a mortal sin. Because of it he wasn't even buried with a marked grave much to the protestation of the Master who was a dear friend to him. The cemetery didn't allow it and now I think that maybe he haunts these halls," she explains, fear evident in her eyes and beads of sweat form on the grandmotherly looking woman's temples.

Merlin feels disgusted yet ashamed at himself. To cause the woman who treated him like a son to feel such fear and horror.

"Those are just old wives tales Mary," Iseldir scolds before putting his arm around Mary's shoulders and leading them to the Master's study.

* * *

><p>Sarah closely looks at the neckerchief placed on the desk. She carefully examines the embroidery of the M, the merlin and dragons.<p>

"It is the same neckerchief," she concludes.

The others, Aglain, Mary, Iseldir suck a breath in except for the Master whose face looks haunted. There are dark circles around his eyes and his clothes look unkempt, he must have lost some weight in that time.

"As in that Lady Camelot and," Sarah takes a breath and continues in a quieter voice, "Merlin have a matching pair of neckerchiefs. And the embroidery is definitely of the Lady's hand. Look at the corner stitches," she points out to the wings of the merlin, "How they wobble a little, Lady Camelot had the same style because she hated embroidery and sewing with a passion."

"Then why would she embroider a matching pair of neckerchiefs for herself and Merlin if she hated the activity?" asks Aglain.

It wasn't Sarah who responded but the young Master. "Is it not obvious Aglain? They were in love," he sighed and eyes took on a weary edge as if trying to hold back tears. The neckerchiefs were a token of love, like in the medieval days when a Lady would give her knight a favour to help remind them of her.

"In love? But Merlin is horse trainer and she a Lady," states Aglain.

"Maybe so, but it is true. They were in love. When Merlin came to pick us up from the station when the Lord died, the Lady Camelot started crying and he started comforting her, he hugged her and kissed her forehead inappropriately. Out was definitely out of propriety. I believe they have been a relationship for quite some time as Merlin has always treated the Lady differently, as if she is the centre of his world."

"Then why did you not speak up earlier Sarah?" the Master asked.

Her eyes shifted, "It did not seem like the right time do so, especially so soon after her death."

The Master ran his hand through his hair and wiped his face, trying to rid any escaping tears. "I wish we had known this earlier. I thought he just felt guilty for the crash and that it would fade away with time. But it appears to run deeper. I think Merlin felt not only guilt but anguish, probably blaming himself for my sister's death," he ended and the servants watched the Master close his eyes as if trying to fight something off. Fight a losing battle.

He continued, "And see what that lead him to do? To hang himself from stable rafters! To leave it for a boy, Mordred to find his dead body there! Lifeless! Why were they so stupid?!" he screamed out to his employees, causing them to flinch. "Why did they not tell me of their relationship? I could have done something to stop Father's plans for my sister. I could've been more understanding to Merlin when he tried to apologise. Now I have no father. No sister. And my trainer, no my friend are all dead. I cannot do anything anymore." He collapsed onto the table with his face in his hands, tears seeping through his net of fingers.

All Merlin could do was watch his employer, the Cabbage Head, his friend cry. He realised that he was not in either worlds, he was stuck in a purgatory, a curse. The pain that washed through him was overwhelming, the stupidity, the guilt, the shame and heartbreak was too much. So much so that he didn't even realise he was crying in his spirit form. His ghostly form. His cursed form.

* * *

><p><strong>Morgana's Reaction<strong>

* * *

><p>Morgana by now was crying fully and unreservedly, the tears free flowing. The sun was beginning to rise from beyond the horizon and it made the droplets shimmer.<p>

"Please don't cry," Merlin begged again even though he was crying too.

"I can't – help – it – when- you're –doing- the –same too," she managed to say in a strangled voice.

Merlin bit his bottom lip, trying to force himself to stop. But he couldn't. He utterly couldn't stop his ethereal tears to go. They just kept coming harder, faster and stronger.

Morgana watched him breakdown, unsure of how to comfort him. "Please don't cry Merlin," she pleaded to him.

"How could I not? I killed her. I killed myself. I'm the worst kind of sinner there is. And see where that landed me. In a place stuck in limbo. It proves that I didn't deserve her, that it we weren't mean to be."

Morgana was shocked by his Merlin's confession. The dark truths that he buried inside and never told a single living or dead soul. With this confession it roused up a determination Morgana never felt before inside her.

"Shut up Merlin!" she yelled at him.

He stopped, tears frozen in their tracks and he looked at her, astonished.

"You are a foolish and idiotic person. Didn't you say that she loved you? That Little Miss sewed you this neckerchief for you?" Morgana held up the silk in her wrist. "She loved you. I doubt that she wanted you to wallow in self-pity, to take your life like that. But what is done is done. I believe she wanted to you to move forward, to forgive yourself now. Her brother didn't blame you, so why do you?"

Merlin observed Morgana closely; seeing the anger, the passion and the kindness in the young woman.. It was then she reminded him of a younger Little Miss, of a younger him when life was simple, innocent and carefree.

The burden removed itself completely from his shoulders. His body, his spirit body felt tingling all over. He hadn't felt so alive since he was with Little Miss.

Morgana watched Merlin become 'alive', as if an inner strength awoke within him. A glow, a light haloed Merlin. She gasped, sparkles began to float from his body, and he was breaking up into sparkles (another vampiric trait it appears).

"Morgana, I feel different. I feel warm," he said breathlessly and he watched his hands melt into the lights.

"I think – I think you are finally going to see Little Miss again," she replied, a smile gracing her face because she truly believed that.

"You think I will?"

"I really do."

Merlin gave her one of the biggest smiles she had ever seen. It was true and genuine. His smile reached his eyes, making the corners of them crinkle and dimples pronounced.

"Well I suppose this is goodbye then Morgana," he said softly.

"I suppose it is then Merlin."

"You have been a good friend. A true friend. Don't forget that Morgana. Alright?"

"I won't Merlin," was all she managed to say, tears of joy and sadness began to mix.

Merlin reached out for a hug but again he realised that he wasn't truly alive, and smiled gently as if to say sorry.

But Morgana then had a stroke of genius and held up his red silk neckerchief and pressed it to her lips, kissed it lightly before beginning to take it off.

Merlins eyebrows rose and he pressed a hand to his cheek where he felt the imprint of a pair of lips. He shook his head to stop her from taking it off and 'placed' a hand on her wrist as if telling her to keep it.

"Goodbye Miss. Pendragon." With that he faded into a shower of sparkles as the sun rose higher into the sky.

"Goodbye Merlin Ambroisius," she whispered quietly whilst watching the sunrise before falling asleep at last.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_I hope the formatting of this chapter wasn't too confusing. But that's it folks. It's pretty much the end of the story, I hoped you liked it. But wait, I still have an epilogue to go to tie up loose ends, so don't worry dear readers. Another update will arrive to enjoy in a few days. Thanks for reading._

_On another note can you believe that Merlin is ending with this season (5)? Well I'm hoping there will be at least one episode with a BAMF!Merlin with his magic revealed to Arthur. But let's be realistic, it seems highly unlikely for it to happen within the span of the few episodes left unless there is some damn good writing there. Seriously that's one hell of a 'Golden age of Albion' and 'bringing back magic' *hint sarcasm hint*. Please don't tell me all of that will be crammed in the last few remaining episodes. Also it would mean that Merlin's destiny was a load of $#!t and that The Great Dragon was mumbling mumbo jumbo which lead to Arthur's not so Once and Future King if he does die (and to the demise of my OTP,MerlinxMorgana). _

_Omg people the feels for the" end" is like….I don't know. We knew (well I had a feeling) that it will most likely end this season but I felt that other aspects of the legend could be explored. Preferably not a reboot of the show in movie format because that would be insulting the actors and everyone involved except for Capps and Murphy. If a movie(s) was made, I rather explore Camelot before The Purge and see a Young Uther, Gaius, Balinor, Nimueh etc. where magic was not banned and Dragonlords still existed._

_And what about the knights? They were like useless side characters saddled as background fodder this series. Though I asked Tom Hopper at his panel about a Knights of the Round Table spin off. He replies that he thought Percival wouldn't be 'talkative' enough to have a spin off. Hence I conclude fair enough, Tom needs a new and more challenging role to play in his acting career. _

_So much more to gush out but in the end I will always love this show. _It's _sad that we never see Merlin as Arthur's Advisor like in the legends, but heck it was a good five years and changed a good chunk of my life, and through it I met such lovely people through it. Best wishes to all of those involved in the making of Merlin; especially Colin, Bradley, Angel and Katie and the undercover crew whom we never really see on screen. Long Live the King…or should I say Merlin? _

_Anyway end of my rant, if you made it this far, you are awesome. Give yourself a pat on the back and please have some virtual cookies ;). In the meantime (shameful self-advertising) you can check out my new story, __**MI0 Pleasure,**__ which a SpyAU MerlinxMorgana. It is a mature story (M rated)and more action packed I hope. Cheers_


	17. Epilogue

_Well I guess this is the very end. I would like to say thanks to everyone who has read/alerted/favourite/reviewed this story. Because if you did any of those, you probably enjoyed it, maybe as much as I enjoyed writing M.G.N.M and reading the feedback I get from it. To those guys who reviewed I want you to know that you guys are awesome and I love replying, even though at times they seem pretty repetitive (trying not to give out spoilers). Hoorah over a 100 reviews and 7000 hits YAY! Epic people you are. Thanks again :D_

_Basic housekeeping: _

_Cypriana: Yes it turns put this humour/friendship story was pretty sad in the end. I hope those initial elements remained though. Would love to reply to the rest of your message but I think you would rather read the this update maybe?_

_Meri Ley: Happy that you are enjoying M.G.N.M and thank you for your well wishes. Maybe I'll do an alternate ending to Merlin Season 5 if it ends badly. Pray that it doesn't though._

_Distressed Clover: You are my 100__th__ reviewer! For that (as a prize) if you like, I typed up an alternate ending (though slightly confusing) and a continuation of this epilogue. I could send you a copy of them if you think this epilogue was dodge ;). _

_Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls I present to you without further ado…_

**My Ghost Named Merlin**

**Epilogue**

Morgana finds herself shaken up by a worried Arthur who begins to bombard her with questions about her welfare. To be honest, she was a little touched by his concern. When he finally believes that she is alright he takes her back to the house where Morgana immediately slumps onto the couch. She is utterly exhausted from staying up all night.

Morgana looks downwards and analyses the red silk material on her right wrist. Her lips curve up into a small smile. She looks around and sees that there is no Merlin floating around bored, no Merlin sitting and reading the newspaper, no Merlin staring at her intently.

She feels happier – happier that her friend, her ghost, her ghost named Merlin is free.

"Are you sure you're alright Morgana?" asks Arthur, he was watching his sister stare blankly with a small smile on her face.

Morgana quickly shakes her head, clearing her thoughts and replies, "I feel great Arthur," she smiles at him, a genuine smile. "I actually feel fantastic. I have a feeling today is going to be a good day and I'm going to win this dressage competition."

Arthur nods slowly, trying to process his sister's mood swings. Yesterday she was depressed and pissed off as hell with the Alvarr bastard, and today she seems like she has seen the light. "Ok Morgana. I suppose you could get ready for that competition now then."

She flashes him another bright smile.

* * *

><p>"Good luck Morgana." Gwen grabs Morgana into a tight embrace, "I know you're going to win."<p>

"I do hope so," Morgana answers after finally escaping Gwen's now infamously heart felt, rib breaking hugs.

Her father and brother have already wished her luck and are standing where the other spectators are. Both of them are dressed impeccably suave with their crisp suits and polished shoes. Because after her competition is the horse race where Uther's and Cenred's (Morgana crinkles her nose at the thought of Cenred because of the association to Alvarr) horse, Nero, is racing in.

She walks to where Aithusa is and pats the mare gently on the neck, admiring her beautiful pale colour. "We can do this Aithusa," Morgana says to the mare who flickers her ears in response, "We'll make Merlin proud. We'll make Gwen and everyone else proud."

The horse gives out a short whinny and paws the ground with one hoof as if she agrees. Morgana grins and then she gets onto Aithusa and waits for their turn. Lastly after all the other competitors, Morgana and Aithusa's name gets called out and they walk into the arena calmly. She was the last contestant and sees that she has to get better than 8.9 to be in first place. Morgana sees Gwen, Arthur and Uther in the crowd, Gwen looking ecstatic as per usual. She also spots Alvarr, but quickly swats any thoughts and memories to the back of her mind like one would do to a fly.

Morgana and Aithusa reach the centre of the arena and salutes the three judges who were a thirty year old lady with startling blue eyes and red lipstick, a plump grandmotherly woman and an old man who looked like one of his eyebrows were always constantly raised. Her salute was simple, clean and effective. Merlin and Gwen had both made sure that she would perfect it. And then she begins.

Her and Aithusa were in synch, their manoeuvres were clean and precise, their pacing – even. When it comes to an end, she and Aithusa were in the centre and preformed the salute again. Then in that tiny fraction of time Morgana was really nervous of her score. And then it was called out, an aggregated score of 8.5.

Morgana's shoulder's slump a little and she saddens. She didn't achieve first place, neither did she do better than yesterday's mark. But she hears cheers from the crowd, her family and friends are cheering the loudest. She receives third place instead. They head back and congratulate the riders who receive first and second place. Morgana joins them to winners circle to receive their ribbons and she smiles.

Afterwards she meet the others, but before that she gives Aithusa a good pat, "We tried out best didn't we Aithusa?" She hugs the mare around the neck.

Arthur, Uther and Gwen are there to meet her.

"Congratulations Morgana dear," her father gives her hug, which feels weird after so long.

"Thanks dad," she replies, albeit a little glumly, "But I didn't get first place."

"Ohh that's a load of tosh," retorts Arthur, "You came third and look, a shiny ribbon to prove it."

"I agree," Gwen nods, her curls bouncing wildly, "We said we'll be proud with whatever you get as long as you tried your best. Which you did, didn't you?"

Morgana merely nods.

"Well, then I'm proud of you." The mocha skinned girl grabs in another infamous embrace.

In that hug Morgana remembers. She remembers as long as she did her best everyone would be happy - even Merlin.

* * *

><p>They are waiting at the side of the racing track. Morgana is still in her dressage uniform and she is standing as far away from Alvarr as she is allowed. Arthur and Gwen are with her and then are giving him death glares which he snobs off. It doesn't appear that Alvarr has told his father what happened to his car. He's probably scared at what Uther would do in return. Morgana sighs, she really is daddy's little princess.<p>

She watches the black stallion Nero with his jockey George be taken into the gates. George's uniform is bright red and gold, the Pendragon colours according to Uther. They wait in anticipation as the other horses get in the gates and then when all of them are in it is a silent moment where everything is still.

Then the gates fling open and the horses bolt down the grassy green track. The crowd is going wild, screams are hollered, arms flinging wildly and the horses are taking massive strides across the ovoid track.

She sees Nero in the middle, George flinging the whip in mechanical movements. Then Nero breaks to the side of the group and into the outside where he begins to gain speed and catch up the front half. Nero and George are right behind the lead horse so close to the front, but another horse comes from behind and another. They began to move inward, forcing Nero to the inside again and slowing him down. Morgana watches in horror because the main group catches up and it thrusts the black stallion to very edge, grating against the rails – and then Nero and George stop where they are, the rest of the mob dash off to the finish line.

Her father and Cenred's investment does not pay off.

She sees George get off Nero and checks his foreleg, running it down leg and bending the fetlock. The horse rears suddenly as if to trample his jockey.

It is after the race in the stables where they inspect the horse closely, standing limply in his stall. Morgana watches the backs of the grey haired vet and his black haired assistant analyse the horse's leg. Cenred is going crazy and George stands there taking the brunt of his abuse, whilst Uther does nothing to stop him.

Then the vet turns around, Morgana watches him separate George and Cenred from each other. Cenred looks like he is going to hit the jockey. "Mr Mercia, stop," he orders sternly.

Morgana realises that it was one of the judges from her dressage competition, what was his name again? She takes a moment to think to remember his name, it was Gaius.

"How is the horse?" her father asks.

"There is much strain on the forelegs," Gaius says wearily, "The horse is too inexperienced to race. It is true that a four year old can race well but if trained well and steadily. However, it appears that the muscles developed faster than the bone can cope with. This usually occurs when the training is very intensive in a short period of time."

"So what can we do about it?" asks Cenred.

"I believe that the horse will not be able to race again, or at least for not a couple of years until he matures."

"What?!" both Cenred and Uther reply, no longer looking calm.

"Do you know how much money is invested in this horse?" asks Cenred.

Gaius doesn't reply immediately, "I suggest you to start training your horses better then." The vet watches the two owners carefully.

Cenred turns to Uther. "I think we should put the horse down," proposes Cenred.

Morgana, Arthur and Gwen are shocked by the proposition. The horse just needed some tender loving care and it would be fine. There is no need to put a fine beast down. But Uther gives it a moment's consideration but he takes too long.

"It will be too expensive to look after otherwise," reasons Cenred.

"That's stupid idea. The horse is perfectly fine. It will heal in time," says the Gaius' assistant whose face remained unseen as he was focused on wrapping bandages around Nero's damaged leg.

"I agree," Morgana speaks out after she hears that and then she looks at her father with pleading eyes, "Daddy can I have the horse please? Aithusa needs a friend in the paddock when we go. Pretty please." It has been a long time since Morgana has begged in such a way to her father.

But she is Daddy's little princess and Uther answers, "Alright Morgana, for you dear," he smiles at her softly.

"Yay, love you Daddy." She hugs her father tightly. For once Arthur isn't disgusted by the exchange and the manipulative ways of his sister. She then lets him go so can deal with Cenred outside at the new change of events.

Gaius walks to her, "You're a good girl Morgana for doing that. That horse is a fine beast and I'm sure it will find itself with a fine owner. You did very well in dressage competition too; I was very impressed, especially after hearing that you have been riding for only a few months."

Morgana blushes, "Umm thank you Dr. Gaius."

"Not at all Morgana. Anyway best be off, I have a few other horses to check on. Emrys are you done yet?" he calls out to his assistant.

"Give me a second Gaius." Morgana turns to see his assistant finish tying up the bandage and get up from the floor and turns around.

Her breath gets caught in her throat; she encounters a pair of magnificent blue eyes and high cheekbones on a face that looks ever so familiar.

**The End**

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

_And we've made it to the end. You can interpret the ending however you want it to be :D. Wel,l I have to say thank you all so much for reading the entirety of the story. I am absolutely astounded that so many of you have made it this far. AlsoI have to say, the horse business was never actually planned but it cropped up, and I have taken drastic creative licensing in how dressage and racing works, with the help of Wikipedia. I hope it was true enough to those who know how to ride a horse because I have never ridden one in my life. Hoped you liked the ending, I did have an alternate ending (and a deleted scene) but I thought this was nicer in the end (and less complicated). But nonetheless, thanks so much and please leave one last review. Cheers dear readers and I wish that we can make it out to the other side with the ending of our favourite show. _

_~Signing off Sacred3_


End file.
